I wanted to write something about ghosts. Something about how when they show up in your dreams they steal rest from you all night long. Not the kinds of ghosts that wear sheets and chains or the kinds of spectral presences that populate spooky stories. I’m talking about the kind of ghosts that used to live large in your life but that you killed off, metaphorically speaking, so you could move on. About how when…
My beds are always empty if you don’t count the ghosts “Rose” — Menomena [Project 365]
Those of you with small pets or even tiny mobile children know what it’s like to be lying in bed and feel the familiar shift of the mattress and the soft, uneven plod of four limbs as they amble slowly and unsurely toward you. Right? Pretty standard stuff. I was lying in bed, on my stomach, this morning, just enjoying being prone in the sunshine, when I felt the mattress jar and those footsteps come…
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