Every time I close my eyes, I see it .Hungry ,ravenous flames dancing in the breeze rapidly gaining

1500 WordsApr 23, 20196 Pages
Every time I close my eyes, I see it .Hungry ,ravenous flames dancing in the breeze rapidly gaining life ,morphing into a bright orange embers ,igniting the piles of antiquity -the books ,the vase ,the paintings.The highly decorative paintings ,the chiefly lacquer and ceramics crackling rupturing into pieces.Sparks flew across the room and the horror, terror and sheer heat hit me full in the face. I felt the scalding heat of the fire as it burned my whole life into ashes .As the flames grew bigger , the vigor in me gradually diminish into a black soot .It sears my skin and the smell of charred meat shoots up into my nose.I feel numb . Jack my brother has insisted with all his might for me to move in and live with him after “that”…show more content…
The paint look as if it has been used for years, stripped off and stained all around ,in places i can't reach .These dreadful brown tiles ,one of those flamboyant patterns that coils around itself ,committing each and every artistic sin known . Lifeless and insipid enough to confuse but striking and distinct enough to study. What is worse is that sickening color : a smoky, sooty, mucky brown .It is dull yet lurid in spots, a stomach churning copper brown.The color itself churned my stomach.Vomit crawled up my throat.I hate it. I have been here several weeks and I haven’t felt any better .Jack is gone most of the days working and Maggie wanders off with the baby for hours and sometimes the whole day. It is blessed that Maggie is so good with the baby.I get all jumpy when i see a baby ,I envisioned them in their new born state .Body red as cherries ,skin vermillion and bruised encrusted in a gloopy syrupy cheese like mass.Their body lanky and scrawny and hands so huge it looked like gloves. I’m getting used to my room ,in fact pretty fond of it inspite of those floor tiles .Perhaps because of them worries resides in my mind daily. Just the other day I took the rug from the baby’s room when Jack and Maggie was asleep .As I trod purposefully across the hall , a regular recurring ticks and creaks occur much like a metronome guiding my path .An indistinguishable form creeped

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