While the house is calm your hallway board walks. So simple. The music calms your face. A temple stretches, asking forgiveness, as a walking hiccup with a polished lure
speaks for regulations on behalf of all floors. We placed them so nicely for all to see; now lay your head pretty. Lay it for we.
It’s simple really.
See, I’ve lived the majority of my life with myself.
So, when someone asks me in earnest, ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
As though they would have somehow helped-
I think to myself,
Would you like to know how my breakfast cereal tasted this morning verses yesterday morning?
Or, would you like to know the moment I remember, with absolutely clarity, events that happened a decade ago while coaching baseball concerning a fan spilling ketchup on their blue jeans and missing their sons at bat because they busied themselves with napkins to fix their accidental spillage that could easily have been avoided by not having put so much ketchup on the end of their hot dog? No. They missed their sons at bat. They missed the hit and they missed the run scored which won the game.
They had things to do.
I wasn’t able to help the child rework the happening to create a better memory of being watched.
It doesn’t work that way.
And I chose freely to not tell how my breakfast tastes on a daily basis because it changes and that’s for me to enjoy. Along with the arrival of the sun and the fact that it comes up every morning slightly differently- even though we live in a world that will try and tell you it’s all been done before.
No. It hasn’t.
So enjoy your questioning questions with a smile and a nod of understanding that not all things will be and not all things will be.
Thanks for reading. I don’t know what this is either.
The boy was exhausted. Again, he picked his head to look. It hurt him to be both asleep and not. Is he alone? Soon, he knew, the door would open. Time to shower. Time to shower. Time to shadow. Time to disappear. Can we push the shadow with the whisper? Does it count to pour this down? Or, are we to always let the steam rise and the door lock and the scream shutter.
Begin by telling the others. View the mirror and look directly. Tell them all. Shattered thoughts make for the best when we let them stand. The mirror is our true time piece.
-M. Taggart copyright 2016
It happened too fast. The house of white issues a warning after the fact. Never did they stop to think they wouldn’t care, but with a hushed musing they learned it was true. It no longer mattered what the house of white stated- after the fact. We watched the walls as they told the story. One girl pattered her feet not wanting to see. An old man crept close to the window from outside with a coffee mug in his hand. He read it would happen much like this.