The blessing bowl and the fear X

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie

                             

 

                                         170px-PazuzuDemonAssyria1stMil_2.jpg

I felt relieved that the bowl had left our house and I sat relaxed next to my wife with a glass of wine, watching a documentary. It had been a long and eventful day and I was more tired than I wanted to admit. When my eyes closed occasionally, I leaned sideways and planted a kiss on my wife's cheek. "I should go to sleep," I announced, "my eyes keep falling shut and I want to get up early tomorrow." "Go and warm my bed up," my dear said, and a moment later I got up to check if the frontdoor was on the night lock.

It was and after a tooth-brushing ritual I rolled into my bed. I thought of my poor nephew who was confronted with three drowned neighbor boys and the long drive back that had been accompanied by theological and philosophical discussions. Just before falling asleep the garbage bin came into view with my neighbor who had complained about Indians taking all sorts out of the bins.

                            6675407539_db73e2245a_n.jpg

I slipped into the darkness and my consciousness left me. Then the images appeared and I knew where I was standing, for unclear reason I had ended up in my basement. I heard a soft thumping and just as I pointed my ears it stopped. "I shouldn't have gone downstairs," I thought, "basement hatches should remain closed when you go to sleep, what in God's name was I doing in my basement." I looked at where the stairs should be, but there were none. I looked up where the stairs should have been if I could see the cellar hatch, but the beams were uninterrupted.

The pounding began again, now a little louder and I saw the faint glow at the end of the basement. Something breathed deeply in and out behind me and my heart froze, it made me take a few steps forward. "Don't look back," I thought, "otherwise it will appear." It was a nonsensical thought, but I knew it to be the truth. "If you admit that something exists, you give it shape." "It won't save you," the gravel voice sounded, followed by a mocking laughter, and I forced myself not to listen. "I am conjuring that up," I thought, "it's not there, I need to go back to bed."

The light blue glow came from around the corner from where my workplace was. "Oh my goodness," I thought, "that workshop is almost under the back terrace where the garbage cans are and that's where the light comes from. There was a pounding again, but now clearer, a heavy pounding and a breaking noise. "It doesn't just happen," I realized, "it is unholy what's there, something that wants to reach out like a hand of evil trying to find its way through the dark night and destroy whatever possible."

                                            170px-Ram-headed_demon.jpg

It was, it was ... and I knew it ... it was like walking up a staircase and you were afraid that something would grab you by your ankles or the monster in the closet or the evil lurking under your bed or sounds in the attic that you only could hear and all the fears of childhood took shape and now I felt the breathing in my neck and with stiff legs I took a few more steps forward.

The pounding became rhythmic and I heard voices, a murmur of voices and I knew that I had to walk on and the sweat beaded on my forehead. The walls seemed to deform and I felt heavy and I was drawn to my workshop, with knees trembling and a heart thumping in my throat, "save me," I begged almost loudly, "my basement looked like the cave and I knew what would be on the workbench in my workshop. "

The blow had been unbelievably harsh and came crashing down from above my head, and I sat up in my bed with a pajama still clinging to me with the sweat of fear and I heard a scraping sound as if something was sliding down our roof and then a loud blow to the back wall of our house. Then it was quiet. I turned on the light and my wife grabbed my arm, "what in God's name was that," she wanted to know, the horror had sounded through her voice. "I don't know," I said, "but we'll see tomorrow." We remained motionless and finally fell into a deep sleep again.

San Daniel 2019

also read XI

13/12/2019 02:55

Reacties (0) 

Copyright © Tallsay.com. Alle rechten voorbehouden.
Door gebruik te maken van deze website geef je aan dat je onze Algemene voorwaarden en ons Privacy statement accepteert