Night Terrors

 

 

 

 

In a corner of the yard

against moss-lined red brick

chimes dance

disturb

disorientate

 

Semi-conscious

straddling the mattress' width

I peep through

frayed-at-the-edges blinds

 

I witness nothing

yet catch sight of a figure

walking

down the ginnel

striding with intent

over centuries old cobbles

searching me out

 

Drinking in the night

I become helplessly small

as small as Alice

and am swallowed whole

by terror

 

A pin prick

in an ocean

of ebony.

 

As I shrink back into the safety of cotton

Pulling the quilt generously over my shoulders

The night becomes my enemy

I watch shadows