The News

The landlord spilled the news
like it were coffee a little too hot
for her mouth
and we were her cup.
It widened our eyes
to sandy expanses of blistering white desert
our pupils round floating oases.
The same thought snapped so forcefully
to both of our minds at once
we might have gotten whiplash --
"Don't tell Kevin."
Kevin slept in there.
And I began to muse over how much blood
might have pooled on the hardwood
(heads contain quite a bit of the stuff)
and which wall the bullet had punched after
it pierced through skull
and could we still find gray matter
in the dusty corners if we went at them
with a wet swiffer
and most importantly, we both agreed,
was this man's spirit still clinging to the house
against the flood of death trying to wash him away? But--
Why would it?
If he'd taken such drastic measures
to escape this life?
He's gone, I'm sure, we agreed.
And she filled the house with sage smoke,
to be sure.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Two reads, both a la Poe.. intense and fine writing. Not chancing another creep along the phrases but thank you for sharing.

[Davidgeo]

I don't think you're a late bloomer.


You're still a creep though.

[M. Shepherd]

Uhh, like in a good way?

[Stephany]

You have penned an interesting twist to a story well told.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is intense creepiness..it would be like renting the Amityville House...
the physical entities might be long gone, but something or someone remains...hard to exorcise them.
great write to wake up to this morning...i love eerie...
thank you for this.
j.

[M. Shepherd]

And thank you Jacob! Good to be back.

[Chris]

The age of full-disclosure is upon us... ghostlets every one.

[M. Shepherd]

Thank you kindly Chris. Ghostlet, what a word. I'm stealing it 😁

[Chris]

I'm fair at coining new words that get used by others...