Saturday, 13 September 2008


She crept in under the cover of partial darkness, sneaking with her head scanning from side to side and back arched: a midnight cat stalking prey. The amber glow of suburbia filtered through the slotted gaps of blinds that remained open and cast stripes of light and shadow upon her form. Her form: it stole away out of the covers, creaked open the door and crept silently down to the end of the corridor where she broke into her brother’s room. His former room.

It seemed empty without him; a desolate shell of the life he used to lead. Much of him remained there though and was preserved as museum pieces to his memory. Tokens of the past that nobody wanted or felt brave enough to part from.

A finger ran across the surface of his desk. She lifted it up and rubbed the dust between index and thumb. He never allowed any dust to gather in his room, he couldn’t stand it, couldn’t allow that mess to exist. It was his greatest weakness and fault. Never had he ever tolerated disorder in his life. For him it always had to be just…so.

Out of his drawers she pulled a sweater that was ironed and folded to perfection. The exact size of an A4 sheet. Perfect right angles. No bobbles. In real light, not the fake light of the city at night, it appeared evergreen as she remembered him. Alive and well all year round. His winter had come far too early.

The scent of him remained, however; the slight musk mingled with the fresh smell of conditioner. Clean. He had always smelled clean. She buried her nose deep into the fabric and took him in, absorbed his essence and memory until she could barely breathe or think. Her heart quickened as she pulled away and her stomach tensed. Her chest rose in short sharp bursts. The palpitations rose up into her throat. The blood beat harder. Her vision grew dark. Lights faded. Amber to grey. Shadow to shadow.

Her head flung back, she fell with arms wide open onto the bed and through half closed lids could almost make out his form, almost see him and sense his presence right there, right above her as if he were very nearly corporeal.

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