This is my attempt at personification, which means giving inanimate objects a physical presence. The setting I’m going to use is the view from my bedroom window. It’s a bit of a weird one for me, so feel free to skip it. I’m just trying to broaden my range a bit and develop different areas of my writing. This was really hard to do though and not that enjoyable in places, so it isn’t something I’ll revisit in a hurry, but I’m glad it’s a finished piece.
The whole of my view is tainted with a layer of filth and glass. The discarded glass bowl through which I am looking is now somehow a metaphor for the once clean community that is being eroded by a build up of scum. ‘The scum isn’t down there though’ my weakening mind screams at me from a distance. ‘Come closer and you will see’. The scum is on the windows who clearly have sins they feel are no longer pure. Their usual transparency now cleverly concealed, to the point you begin to doubt if they ever really did open up to you. Maybe you just imagined their openness? Did you? Don’t let your doubts be swayed by windows who have been closed from the start. They will bring the curtain down on the whole stage if they have to, blinding you so you see nothing but the pointed empathy that peaks within the darkness. You must not let the windows win this battle. You must move on. What else can you see? The cul-de-sac where my hat lays is beginning to take form and substance behind the sly shroud of my glass viewpoint. I trace the outlines of the gable ends that continuously face each other, eyes misaligned, but no less clear, mistrustful of what will happen if they take the UPVC eyes that see into their souls and turn them towards each other. Will they be forever enemies, never seeing eye to eye. The blind gable ends know nothing of the struggles their partially sighted brothers face, their blank expressions revealing nothing, their blind jealousy concealed forever, in the darkness they long for the sight of even a sore eye, so that they might see all the wonders their brothers have spied. The irony that was once lost has now returned in timely late fashion to remind you that it prefers greener grass. Even without my dirt coloured spectacles, I know that the soundless gable ended entities here have seen better days, they have felt better days. I can’t tell you when those better days were, but the puppet master that makes them all dance can. He has been holding on to their secrets for time untold. A twitch of the string here and a flick of the finger there and they are all just pawns doing his bidding. Who is the puppet master bidding for? Who holds the keys to the heart strings of the devil himself? The stone vein that runs along every strip of fertile land, the blood that no longer flows through, oozing from every small crevice. It’s stony exterior giving nothing away, but revealing its true intentions all the same, like it had a magnifying glass scrutinising its every move. The ground starts to tremble, convulsing. The air protests against an unseen intruder, clawing at it with hands that do not exist, if only it knew. ‘YOU CANNOT LEAVE THIS PLACE’. Eyes shook in frames, both human and house. The authority in that voice crackled in the air like a firework ready to take hold and fly. You weren’t supposed to question a voice like that, but I would rather look my fate in the eye and have it consume me, than be anything in the orbit of existence that surrounds that voice. The game is only fair if both sides know they’re playing. The sun breaks through the clouds that look like sheeps fleece tangled in gorse. Coarse and difficult to remove. The road to leave now looks brighter than ever. The rays of the sun twinkling off every available surface. The circle takes a slow sigh of collective relief. It has survived another Tiger from the Bay and it can fight another day. I move back from the window, blinded by a ray, that should have a ban placed upon it. I step out of my front door and I keep my distance from the wall that now looks just like a wall. More of a wall than a wall ever looked. The gable ends are are just gable ends again. How could I have thought…..? Don’t doubt yourself, by doubting yourself you let them win again. Even though this all sounded crazy, I figured I didn’t have any thing else to lose. I believed. I wrapped my coat around myself and glanced up at the blind gable end with fearful disdain as I walked away. For the last time.