Thursday, November 18, 2010

Pull The Blankets Up





It was dark and the blankets were pulled right up to my face, up under my nose, where the woollen fibres tickled my nostrils and made me want to sneeze, if I'd been conscious enough to do anything more than attempt to wave it away unconsciously.

I was dozing in and out of sleep, that early morning float from 4am onwards, when time stretches out to twice as long, 120 minutes to the hour, or so it would seem. That lovely lazy flop; limbs asleep, mind adrift.

The door opened, I could just make out its click on its latch and the vacuum seal of the air in the room vaguely relax and then retention. Heals clip clopped on the floor boards towards me... I was riding a horse across a cobble stone road.

I was in my friend's kitchen with a titled floor. I was in that boutique on the high street with polished concrete. I was in a long corridor which stretched far away in both directions, some one was walking but no matter which way I looked the corridor was empty.

The footsteps stopped, I could sense breathing. I was behind a door, somebody was looking for me. The world was dark, but I wasn't alone. I was hiding, someone had sneaked up behind me without me seeing.

I was being touched, thick, stumps of fat were sliding under my shirt. My friend was trying to get my attention. Finger tips were crawling like spiders up my chest. The shop keeper was flirting with me. They slid into my armpits. Someone was behind me in that long, empty corridor. I raised my hand to the back of my neck, my arm rubbed across the side of my face. I started to laugh, it tickled. It was funny.

The sound of my own voice woke me up. The stranger was looking down at me, his jowls hanging low as he lent down towards me. I recoiled. He grabbed each side of my head with each hand and pushed me into the mattress. He smiled broadly and whispered in a low, gravely tone, close to my left ear.
"You have very soft skin... I've been waiting for you to open your eyes." His breath was hot and wet, it smelt like fish, or rotting teeth.

I woke with a start. The room was empty and the dark, evening light was breaking into the first blush of morning. My bedroom door was open, where it had been closed. I pulled the blankets up to my neck and a chill ran up my spine. My skin crawled on my flesh, like it had turned into roaches.

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