The House of New And Old

It was that olden Witchin' Time of night. The sudden creaking of the unfamiliar walls may as well have been the cacophonous coo-coo- nay the "CAW! CAW!" of a great feathered Raven clock. Here in the gooey silence, she felt somewhere between perturbed yet serene.

Her previous chapter lay withered and dying behind her and now she was in that 'Absurd Abode', simultaneously occupying the earth-shattered-rug-pulling-endings with the tiny-tremor-filled rumblings of her anticipated next beginning. It was the first night in her new quarters. Even the silver light from without seemed not of this moon but more to some tenuous ilk of a white-haired drifter from some other realm.

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And in her delicious yet fleeting monachopsis, she could feel the new memories, people, friends, and lovers... they were on their way, waiting to be invited into her next life. They were waiting- all around her...

Thousands of tiny apparitions, unstuck from time, playing and delighting in the strange tricks the light played upon the walls of oil-inky darkness- These walls whereupon she might rest her head after a long day- or These walls upon whom she might beat and claw in unforeseen heartbreak?

It was on these weary walls she witnessed the invisible dances of her future phantoms; phantasmagoric shadows, spinning a merry orbit around her tiny wax-ensconced flame as if it were a small life-giving sun; a speck of a star, ablaze here and now to nourish all the future worlds of memories she was about to inhabit with a song of tiny sunlight- deafening yet soundless. 

And there was the creaking again as if to say, "It begins".

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