WHOM TO BELIEVE.

[dadio]

And suddenly she turns off the light and shuts her eyes the darkness of the room closing in on her and the only light comes from that of the moon through the space of the window where the curtains fail to meet and the silence of the house embraces her and settles down for the night like a big black bear and she remembers as a child having a fear of the dark wanting the light on but her father said no and switched off the light and plunged her into the blackness of her childhood room and she felt as if she were drowning in the black stuff that seemed to conceal monsters in cupboards or under the bed along with the fluff and downstairs the parents were rowing their raised voices echoing her room like spirits of the drowned and sometimes as she hid herself under the covers Oscar crept into her room and moved along the floor like a four legged beast and she could hear him and wanted him to go away but still he came and put his hand under the bed covers and sought out her hand or arm or down lower to feel for her leg and he whispered her name and it seemed heavy with his breathing and his breath was tainted by beer and cigarette smoke and he breathed words over her and said Let me in Alice let me into your wonderland and she moved back and let him in and he was heavy with bigness and his hands touched her and felt along her thigh and she closed her eyes against it all and hoped he would go and it would be over with or that maybe for once her parents would come and catch him but they never did they were always busy arguing their high voices far away their eyes blind to it all their friend Oscar who shared the house who they laughed with and joked about was there in their daughter’s room and they would never have believed her if she had said they would have said she was a liar or had a sad imagination and Oscar would have sat there innocent as daffodils and looked at her open mouthed and wide eyed as if to say Me? Do that? As if I would and so she said nothing and let it sink into her let each touch and feel each whispered word be absorbed into her mind and memory and now opening her eyes she stares at the floor and strains her ears for sounds on the carpet or his smell in her nose or maybe see his shadowy outline against the moon’s light or his hands touching her and she sits up and peers into the dark her breathing heavy her eyes focusing the darkness seeing the outline of chair or cupboard or the small table by the window but no Oscar now no sign her mother off in some asylum someplace her mind in shadows her father in New York with some young slut he’d met and Oscar staring at bottles in some German bar cancer creeping in a secret place painful and draining and his thin fingers touching his glass eaten up with lies and she Alice remembering this lies down and closes her eyes.

[stilltrucking]

good job

[creativesoul]

sweet-

[dadio]

Thank you, stilltrucking & creativesoul

[creativesoul]

I LIKE THE DESCRIPTIONS, i know you love writing, not so easy sometimes to get that 'feeling' accross. the way women feel is sometimes rather different sometimes - compared to how men display emotion...one of the things i love about writng is the feeling that seems to be unleashed like a wild dog- the two herons flew by- must be a blessing of some sort...water birds..like with that sexy smoky uproar is a quiet- a mystery that has a quiet confidence in itself- noticing how that quiet meets up with the words, and the light coming thru the window- and the smoke she exhales....

[creativesoul]

stealing the soul is what chester the molester has to do to feel as good as me and you- shrink anti-dote

[dadio]

Thank youm creativesoul