It’s about 2am. I’m tied but can’t sleep. Dreams have been strange again. I saw Asheville burning. Large swaths of the city were reduced to rubble. Flying craft in the air. Not planes or helicopters. Floating, noiseless craft.
I don’t remember much else. I got up and poured myself a small bit of Rock ‘N’ Rye. Needed something stronger than plum wine. I’m drifting. As I sit here the wind is howling outside. It’s so windy I expect to hear tree limbs falling on the house. The wind chimes are making an awful racket in the back yard. As I write and watch the lead of my pencil dance across the paper, I sense movement all around me. Shadows moving. Colors shifting, just outside of my periphery. The energies swirl and ebb in the house and the restless wind seems almost to have been brought out of my dreams and let loose upon the world.
If I were a girl again I would take off my clothes and walk in the yard to feel the wind upon my skin and have the darkness embrace me. The spirits call to me, but here I sit, sipping the poison that lets me shut them out. I am grown now. I am normal. I am sane. I can’t come out and play with you.
In the corner of my eye just now I saw a woman standing in the doorway to the den. I’ve seen her before, but I never see her clearly. The glimpses are shifting smoke, like shadows taking form, only to vanish as I become aware. Already I’m dismissing it as imagination. That’s what sane people do. But I know she’s not a real woman. She’s shifting energy that I see as a person.
I’m going to finish my drink and take a hot shower. Then I’m going back to bed. The leaves that blow across the porch sounds like clawing fingers on the door or the scurrying of tiny feet. But I’m going to open the door and see if I can find my Hannibal. He’s never around when I want him to be, But he usually is when I need him to be. If there was ever a night to have a warm, furry, orange body beside me on the bed, tonight is it. Hopefully he can tear himself away from playing with the air spirits.
If I close my eyes the movement doesn’t stop. It gets worse. I just wish they’d tell me what they want.
