The Death of the Dregs
def: a small amount of residue
Letters from Beyond
Posted by b on 6:44 PM
I was opening my door, the cold air rushing outside.
I heard a door slam upstairs. I looked in that general direction and then began to walk outside.
I stopped at my mailbox.
I opened the metal door and took out the one letter inside.
I turned it over in my hands, reading who it could be addressed too.
In big black letters, my name was scribbled. I was curious.
Who would be sending me a letter?
I walk back into the house, tearing the end of the letter. I empty the crumpled paper on to the table and sit down in the wooden chair, it cracks then settles. I open it, it's folded in three ways. There is nothing on the letter. There are no words, no marks, no idle doodles. Just a blank letter. I am confused, who would send this to me?
I drop the paper and look at the envelope. I did not recognize the hand writing. I hear a door slam upstairs and it startles me.
I dropped the envelope and yelled, "what's going on up there?"
I stared at the ceiling, waiting for a response.
It was quiet, no one was moving.
I again asked, "who is up there?"
I keep staring in the direction of the slamming door, obviously concerned because I had recently taken all the doors from their hinges.
Nobody says anything so I stand up from my chair and start walking towards the stairs.
Slam! Someone slams a door again.
My heart starts beating faster, it's dark and I am alone in my house.
I start walking up the stairs, my footsteps much louder than they should be.
I reach the top step, it groans under the weight of my body.
I look down the hallway, three rooms, all without doors.
I walk to the first room and step inside.
I look around, the room is empty except for a few books on the floor and the heavy curtain resting on the wall. I walked out of the room, wishing I knew what made the noise. I walk back into the hallway and decide not to check the other rooms. If someone is here, I don't think I really want to meet them.
As I approach the staircase I look down into the darkness of the entry-way.
I felt as if something was down there.
I slowly start descending the staircase. The darkness engulfs me.
Each step I take feels like it may be the last.
I turned the corner and when I look towards my table there was a man, staring directly at me. The lump in my throat collapses into a gasp.
I stare back at him, not knowing who he was or what he wanted.
He smiled and then took his eyes off of mine, turning towards the open piece of mail.
He took a pen from his shirt pocket and started scribbling on the page.
I stood there, too scared to move.
My legs felt like lead. I wanted to run away from him, I wanted to start screaming and never see this man again.
He stood up, I flinched.
He started walking towards me slowly.
I was frozen, transfixed by terror.
As he came closer I could see his face.
The utter horror of who he was and why he could be here was unbearable.
I had known him once.
I heard a door slam upstairs. I looked in that general direction and then began to walk outside.
I stopped at my mailbox.
I opened the metal door and took out the one letter inside.
I turned it over in my hands, reading who it could be addressed too.
In big black letters, my name was scribbled. I was curious.
Who would be sending me a letter?
I walk back into the house, tearing the end of the letter. I empty the crumpled paper on to the table and sit down in the wooden chair, it cracks then settles. I open it, it's folded in three ways. There is nothing on the letter. There are no words, no marks, no idle doodles. Just a blank letter. I am confused, who would send this to me?
I drop the paper and look at the envelope. I did not recognize the hand writing. I hear a door slam upstairs and it startles me.
I dropped the envelope and yelled, "what's going on up there?"
I stared at the ceiling, waiting for a response.
It was quiet, no one was moving.
I again asked, "who is up there?"
I keep staring in the direction of the slamming door, obviously concerned because I had recently taken all the doors from their hinges.
Nobody says anything so I stand up from my chair and start walking towards the stairs.
Slam! Someone slams a door again.
My heart starts beating faster, it's dark and I am alone in my house.
I start walking up the stairs, my footsteps much louder than they should be.
I reach the top step, it groans under the weight of my body.
I look down the hallway, three rooms, all without doors.
I walk to the first room and step inside.
I look around, the room is empty except for a few books on the floor and the heavy curtain resting on the wall. I walked out of the room, wishing I knew what made the noise. I walk back into the hallway and decide not to check the other rooms. If someone is here, I don't think I really want to meet them.
As I approach the staircase I look down into the darkness of the entry-way.
I felt as if something was down there.
I slowly start descending the staircase. The darkness engulfs me.
Each step I take feels like it may be the last.
I turned the corner and when I look towards my table there was a man, staring directly at me. The lump in my throat collapses into a gasp.
I stare back at him, not knowing who he was or what he wanted.
He smiled and then took his eyes off of mine, turning towards the open piece of mail.
He took a pen from his shirt pocket and started scribbling on the page.
I stood there, too scared to move.
My legs felt like lead. I wanted to run away from him, I wanted to start screaming and never see this man again.
He stood up, I flinched.
He started walking towards me slowly.
I was frozen, transfixed by terror.
As he came closer I could see his face.
The utter horror of who he was and why he could be here was unbearable.
I had known him once.