The bathroom is steamy, the mirrors fogged. I’m drying off when I see it. A large X on the medicine cabinet mirror. A loose circle surrounds it. Hastily scrawled, like it was spray painted. It wasn’t there yesterday. Or the day before. Or a month ago. Or ever. No one else uses my bathroom. No one’s even been up to my floor. But there’s a giant X on the mirror.
It’s Sunday. A day for sleeping late. A day for not worrying about getting up. Or meetings. A day for no alarms save the morning sun peeking past my shades. Sunday is the kind of day night owls with day jobs love. At least this night owl. It’s one of two days when I get enough sleep. I love Sundays. I lay there, scrunched into my covers. Spring is fighting with winter, but the old lady still has a grip on the outside. It was enough to make luxuriating alone in bed as long as possible that extra bit of Continue Reading →
It’s been a while. Those whispers. More than a year. I’d kind of forgotten about them because the house has been…I don’t know. Not quiet, exactly. Acquiescent? There’s always a bit of a feeling around here. But then today I was taking a shower. It was the middle of the day, a perk of working from home. I was singing “You Can’t Do That,” a favorite Beatles tunes, and was leaning into the water. It was relaxing. That’s when I felt it. A tap. Two of them. On my shoulder. Not “like” a tap. It was a tap. A finger touching Continue Reading →
I’m getting ready to leave. TV off, ceiling fans off. Windows, closed. It’s quiet on the third floor. I turn off the lamp in my office, the last light on the third floor that was on. I hear a door shut on the second floor. I thought I was alone in the house. Whispers. Close. On the stairway. Halfway up. I freeze. The whispers continue. I imagine they’re whispering that I’m coming. “Hello?” I say. It was instinctual. A bad line straight from of a horror movie. “Just me,” my roommate calls from the second floor. The whispers stop. “I’m headed Continue Reading →