Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
Things That Go Bump in the House
You could call him the house-wight. I first encountered him directly in a dream last year. (And yes, he's a he, whatever that means.)
That's how I learned his name. His name says a lot about him (and, probably, something about me, as well). When you know someone's name, it's a bond. Whether you will or whether you won't, it makes a relationship which, like all such, needs ongoing maintenance.
These last few days, I've been hearing things fall in the house. I get up, I go look: nothing. It isn't Craig: he's not here. It isn't the cat: he's asleep on the bed. Yes, the house vibrates when buses hit big potholes on Lake Street, but it's not pothole season yet. (Ah, the joys of urban spring.) Yes, the house ticks and pops when the temperature falls below zero. But those sounds I know, and this isn't them. Ice falling from the eaves? No, these are indoor clatters, I'm sure of it. I'm hearing things fall in rooms where nothing seems to be falling. If we call it the house-wight, that makes as much sense as anything.
A little guy with a beard and shining eyes? Shadows sliding in the far corners of vision? My human mind connecting up stray incidents into patterns that don't exist? A subtle way of externalizing my mental and emotional relationship with my environment? All of the above?
Whatever it may be, this clanking-around sure strikes me as attention-seeking behavior. (If he were really angry, I assume he'd be breaking things.) I haven't exactly been regular with the saucers of milk. Maybe it's time I changed that. It never hurts to pay more mind to your whereabouts.
So, here's your milk and here's your post, You. (See, I didn't give away your name.) So.
How's about some quiet now, eh?
Comments
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Friday, 13 March 2015
Back when I still lived in my parent's house I would notice sounds when I was in the house alone. Thump noises like something fell over occasionally, but more often it was the sound of water. I'ld get up and check all the faucets to make sure none of them were running, none of them were. When there were other people in the house I just assumed it was them and didn't notice the sounds. Now that I live in an apartment I take for granted that it's the neighbors I hear.
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Well, of *course* you didn't give away his name. (He would have given you a lot of trouble for doing that.)