‘For a long time I saw every little thing. Each mesh in the net curtain, each drop falling off the branches. The light made everything clear and still. I heard every sound, for a long time. It was as if something was rustling about somewhere in the empty house. No, as if someone were occupying the room I was sitting in, in my body, rustling around. The grandfather clock ticked in and out of his heartbeat. I admit it scared me, this keeping watch. Sometimes I didn’t know where he was or what he was doing. That was before you arrived, a new watchman, and added a new rustling, a new ticking. Are you company? Are you here to keep me safe? Outside me now something like myself, a thick palpable dust made of dead skin. I breathe it in and out, feel around me, look for the door. Are you the dust? The door?’


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