||[Jun. 28th, 2006|09:17 am]
"Protruding from the closet, a few feet above the hardwood floor, was a human arm. I couldn't tell whether it was living or dead, but in any case it was too stiff for its owner to be unconscious. The slim, graceful fingers were bent at the knuckles, their tips pointing at the far window, as though frozen while clutching at something. The arm did not waver. I recalled the stillness of mimes I had seen busking on the wharf. I recalled the stillness of spiders. |
"I opened my mouth to greet the unseen figure in the closet, but couldn't decide whether my tone should be friendly or hostile. So I remained silent, relying on the rustle of my clothing to announce my presence as I stepped closer. I could see now that the fingernails were long and pointed, as though manicured, and the skin was smooth and hairless, like a woman's. But the arm was large; it was bigger than my own. I stopped just beyond its considerable reach, and stared at it, daring it to move.