Halloween Night Special: The Green House
Halloween night - the only fitting time to share this one: An abstract and nonlinear creative piece about an old Victorian home.
Hello, Hello. Or Boo! if that’s more fitting. Trick or Treat? I don’t know - pick your poison.
I released a mixed short (poetry and fiction that mixes tenses/pieces) that’s available for free tonight on The Unsealed. It’s extremely abstract and nonlinear, as the whole piece is meant as a creative symbol about greeting your melancholy with kindness and making your mind into a nice place to call home. Here’s a little preview. I hope that you might enjoy and find something to take into this next season.
Here’s a preview to the short:
"The autumn flush bashfully comes in during this time of year. Traces of red and orange line the green just enough to give the sense that it might actually get colder than fifty, but it never does. Most of the homes in Tomales are farm-style. Less greek revival, more horse and buggy. Wrap around porches hug the treeline rooftops parallel to an unneeded chimney. Hummingbird feeders hang nectar on every doorstep like there might be a modern day Passover. I once even heard someone call their laundry closet an ‘alcove.’ The neighborhood is literally so pretentious and inviting that you can practically taste Grandma’s cookies underneath a family timeline of Stanford cap and gown photos. Houses like that are meant to be shared. Mine is just for me. There was a Victorian on the hill, half a mile south of the city limits. There were rumors about it. Ghost stories that were best left dismissed. With fresco painted ceilings and a view of the bay, I’d blindly bought in. The previous owner even left behind an old piano. I called it a steal. Economically sound: the only type of echo I’d ever considered when buying the house. The first creaky floorboard fell through while I was carrying in the dishware. Termites. And if that wasn’t enough, the flip of the switch fried the chandelier’s circuit in one go. Ridiculous of me to expect the house to do more than look like the photos. “Damnit.” I collapsed onto the piano bench for the first time. All of my boxes were just inside the hall. The air was stifled by thick humidity. I could feel myself getting sick in the first breath. Nobody had lived here in years. Perhaps no one was meant to."
Happy Halloween! Sending lots of love.
-linds
