In my office tonight, getting ready to sit down and write… I stop.
Music. Unmistakeable.
Somewhere, someone is playing music.
The house is asleep. I’m the only one awake.
Yet there it is. Unmistakeable.
I go out and stand on the front porch, just in case it’s a neighbor.
Nothing.
Back inside, the house is quiet.
I stand in my office, head cocked… waiting.
Another entry from one of my old journals, this time from 1996.
It begins simply enough…
I’m standing in front of a shelf full of journals and books in the dead man’s rooms.
You can read the rest here.
I’m starting the process of transcribing dreams from my old journals. It’s interesting, to say the least. Leafing through those old notebooks, doing my best not to get drawn back into the past while I sift through these old pages for little scraps of dream.
The first of these was just posted below.
I’ll post more and more of these echoes in the days to come, but this first one is from a night in August over twenty years ago.
It begins with a series of questions…
Do demons stand still? Can you look for them in corners or out of the way places? Do demons stop long enough for you to see them?
You can read the rest here.