The air feels strange tonight, I don’t know why. I can’t place it, can’t catch it, can’t figure it out. It’s as if the happy go-lucky atmosphere in the room – all blaring bass and slamming keyboards – is floating on something else; and the water, or whatever it is doing the supporting, is electrified. It’s making my nerves stand on edge.
Dammit it’s September. It’s never this early. They’re never this early. Except when it is, except when they are.
Stay away, stay at arm’s length. Do not be offended if I seem to put you there. It is not personal, it is protection. Your protection. I am a radio antennae, I am an ungrounded lightening rod.
And it’s about to get Loud.
Because they are early. It’s all early.
Early and the room can’t hear them, the room can’t see.
Hear under the music, feel under the bassline that shakes their heartbeat. Energy I can usually plug into, charge off of, but not this time, not this night.
Because they are early.
And you can’t hear them.
But I can hear them.
The pressure to either side of my ears, whispered conversations beyond edge of hearing, shouted arguments so loud they shatter my eardrums, but so far distant that no one else can hear them. Muffled by a layer that can’t be seen.
And you’re all looking at me like I’m crazy. Wondering why I can’t relax, why I jump at shadows and cringe at whispers. I am not the only one, and I’m not crazy.
Come out, come play, come visit. Your mother won’t even know you’re gone. We promise to have you back for supper, just don’t ask us when.
Come play
Trust us, don’t trust what you see. Don’t trust what the rest say. Trust us. We won’t hurt you. You can hear us, we know you can hear us.
Shadows overlaying faces, changing expressions, overlying gestures, bending time. Are you sure you see what you think you see?
You’re still looking at me like I’m crazy. That’s fine. I’m used to it. But the time is coming. As you buy your bucktooth pumpkins and spiced lattes, and your discounted candy corn. Preparing to send your children out into the twilight trusting that they will return. As you take to dance floors that shake under your feet and reliagn your heartbeat.
Pay not attention to me, or to any of us who prefer to hide in the corner, behind our walls. Who keep our cabin doors carefully shut, who wear jewellery you don’t understand and answer questions with questions.
We’re not crazy.
They’re just early. And we can hear them.
And it’s about to get Loud.