We have been invited by Mindlovemisery of Mindlovemisery Menagerie to write a 9 part series on rooms in NoEnd House, a place in her dreams. She will post a photograph or a word as a clue/cue to our next room. This week she shared an excellent piece of metal work crafted by her husband. The word is
Another flight of stairs. Another door into my past.
The others are frightened by her. “On a rampage,” they say when footsteps run up the six flights of stairs to stand outside my door.
We made peace the first the first weekend I stayed in the house alone. Well, not really alone. She did her best: rattling tea cups; slamming doors; odd creeping/creepy noises.
I’d invite her down to the kitchen, “You’ve already got the tea cups down. Do you like Celestial Seasons, Earl Gray or Oolong? Bag or leaf? Are you partial to Limoges or Dollar Store?”
She ran screamingly up the narrow steps. Long skirt flapping. Hair flying out her “proper” bun. The tap, tap of her black heeled boots stumbling up the stairs. Reaching for the old dead bolt half way up the unclosing, warped door. Slamming this door did very little good.
No need to float the Viking tool in the palour. Nor show my face in the 3rd floor bathroom mirror. Had her scared to rights. No more problems with that boarder on the weekends. She’s rather go to Great Aunt Sally’s. And, boy is that place haunted!