Wednesday, 24 February 2010
Notes from a Fantasy
he house faces west, looking over mountains and the sea. He comes to me in the evening and we sit in the garden, eating apples and watching the sun set.
The house changes shape and its windows move.
There is always a bath in the garden. The water is heated from beneath. I lie there for hours, reading and watching the sea.
Three houses in all: mine, theirs and the empty one.
A jetty. The shlop-shlop of water on wooden posts and the underside of the boards. The hollow sound of a dog's claws on wood.
Oyster mushrooms found in the woods. I leave a note: 'Enjoy. S x'
The carn. A candle and a lighter left at the door. Scramble inside and sit in the darkness and mud. Wait for your eyes to adjust. Try not to think about the weight of earth above you.
I play him the music I love and we listen together in silence. I sit on the arm of the sofa. The room darkens.