It was a dark space. Enclosed. Maybe an alley. Maybe a room. Big enough to contain something, if you could see beyond the inky darkness. Not something you'd want to walk into without knowing what was there. If anything.
The darkness had substance. Texture. Volume. You couldn't see into it. But I could feel it pressing back out at me as I stood at the entrance. Shifting inside the space, like a vapor. No temperature, no smell, not a hint of anything. Just the insistent presence of . . . well, of dark.
Unable to move forward without certainty of what it contained, I paused. Then yelled. Screamed. Incoherently. Just sounds. I don't know why. Maybe I thought it would echo back. Like the sonar of a bat. Give me some sense of what lurked in the black. Only it didn't echo. It just absorbed my voice. I yelled louder.
Until Dr. Chako elbowed me and told me to stop yelling at 4 a.m.
I gotta lay off the migraine drugs . . .
Respectfully submitted,
The Wife
4 comments:
I'd say TAKE MORE DRUGS!
or
Get rid of the husband.
This is the start of something goooooood.
So THAT's what it was. I thought you were being killed. Actually, when I woke up to screaming, I thought I was under attack.
-The Husband
PS. Is Betty trying to get rid of me?!
Before bedtime I suggested to the newly encasted son that perhaps he should keep a Vicodin next to his bed should he happen to wake up in the middle of the night in pain only to be told, "Nah, I won't need it."
Flash forward to 2:30 am when I am handed the bottle of Vicodin with the plea from said son to open it for him since he's incapable of doing so himself.
The urge to bitchslap him was nearly overwhelming.
Here's hoping we both sleep better tonight - you and I - him, well he's pry gonna be overdosed tonight.
I know 'zactly what you need!
HUGE (((((HUGS)))))
And sorry Betty! She's just gotta' keep the Husband! Ferrari's are useless, without the HAWTest chick in town sitting in them!
:)
*blink - - - blink*
Word verification = smoknazs
I have to get me one of those jobs!
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