Weirdbook.org

A blog experiment by Brad Mills.

Walking shadow

This is only the second evening in over a week I've not been rushing about. I'm not sure what to do with myself. You'd think, having been given a fairly blatant reminder that life's but a brief candle, that I'd at least be looking for something relevant to do. Instead I'm taking care of dishes, monkeying around on the computer, and generally wasting an evening.

I can't say things are getting back to normal. Normal has been redefined, and I'm not sure of its definition. There is a scattering of items in the living room which do not belong here — a laptop filled with genealogy and an unfinished spider solitaire game we won't close, an mp3 player filled with bluegrass music and photographs, boxes of family tree notebooks, various other trinkets.

I don't know what to do with these things.

At some level they're just things. But I feel they're infused with an energy that isn't mine, and should be returned to their rightful owner. I can't exactly do that.

apparition Meanwhile, across the electronic ether, here come pictures of apparitions appearing in windows of long-vacant houses on old stomping grounds.

It's a weird evening.


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