/yesod

Category: hallucinations

  • robotic

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    … a brief visual flash this morning, something white and glossy scuttling across the floor towards me . . . about as wide as the coffee table, slightly taller, ducking its head to pass beneath it . . . insectile . . . vague impression of shiny black eyes, stripes along the legs and torso…

  • early morning

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    Pushing through the soft fuzz of the baby monitor, my daughter’s cries jolts me awake: “Daddy, daddy, daddy…” I’m up and across the hall before I have a chance to clear the mist from my head. Standing over her crib, I pat her back and tell her it’s okay. Once she settles down I head…

  • doing the dishes

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in ,

    …and as I turn to put a glass in the cupboard I startle and flinch backwards from the dark figure standing right at my left shoulder. Vague impressions . . . someone looking into my face . . . a male presence about my height but larger, heavy-set almost . . . broad head, the…

  • footsteps and flashes

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in ,

    After dinner, my wife runs to the store. My daughter and I play in my office. The whole time, my skin is crawling. I have a sense that someone — or multiple someones — is passing through my office, moving past us unseen. The sensation is uncanny, disquieting. My daughter seems not to notice. When…

  • honeysuckle

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    About a month ago I noticed that whenever I walked into the kitchen of our house I could smell honeysuckle. This went on for a number of days before I mentioned it to my wife. She couldn’t smell anything. Even more strange, this only happened when I walked through a particular doorway. Coming in from…

  • music from an unknown room

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    And, again, there was music playing when I laid down to take a nap earlier today. Faintly . . . as though someone was listening to a radio in another part of the house. But, of course, no one was.

  • music from an unknown room

    —

    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    And, again, there was music playing when I laid down to take a nap earlier today. Faintly . . . as though someone was listening to a radio in another part of the house. But, of course, no one was.

  • again

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    The voices again tonight. No music this time, no men. One or two women, I can’t quite be sure. Possibly a child. I told my wife about the voices a few days ago. She could tell tonight that I was hearing them again. And, of course, she cannot. We keep a fan going at night,…

  • raised voices

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    Two or three times now, I have found myself unable to sleep because of the voices. It sounds for all the world like two men having an argument somewhere in the house. Sometimes there are women’s voices mixed in. Sometimes there are children. I can almost just make out what they’re saying. Almost. Sometimes there’s…

  • the pedestrian

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    Waking up in the winterdark, I head downstairs. Cold floors and echoes of early morning dreams. I pass by the front door and see someone out on the sidewalk, a dark shape bundled up against the cold. Halfway to the kitchen, I stop. The dark shape picking its way along the crust of snow, another…

  • nursing home

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    by

    T.M. Camp
    in

    [This is directly transcribed, without changes or edits, from a journal entry dated November 4th, 2001] This place is full of voices. I can’t tell if what I’m hearing is from one who is here or who used to be here — but it hardly matters which. I’m hearing voices all day.