Tony Grist (poliphilo) wrote,
Tony Grist
poliphilo

Personal Space

I was sitting quietly by myself in someone else's space.

I was a little anxious.

I could feel that I didn't fit. The walls were full of memories and habits and aspirations that weren't mine.

Not ghosts, not hostile, just not to do with me.

The weather of another personality.

All houses are haunted houses.

I am sitting now in my own space. Settled. Attending to my own weather. Listening to the noises I don't normally bother to hear: the hum of the computer, the clock that goes plonk, plonk, plonk quite slowly like water dropping into a galvanised tank and the other clock that goes tick tick tick quite fast like an insect.
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