Cellars in the northern and southern hemisphere - part 1

To subdue the forest and till the fields (after HP Lovecraft)

It’s winter time and I’m walking in the woods. The light is fading, wrapping itself round the oak trees and snagging in their branches. It’s late afternoon.

My boots feel heavy with the red, red earth, but I’ve got to be home by dark.

My husband is waiting in his bed, vines creeping at the corners, carved acorns splitting. A freakish, sleeping beauty.

His missing foot upsets the balance and mars the symmetry of my desire. I wish I hadn’t had to.

My basket groans with the weight of berries and the smell of the wintersweet is heady and infinite. The needlefrost disappoints the tiny spring shoots.

By the house, the owl shrieks evening. Shadow time. I catch sight of the owl on the barn roof, its cod wisdom exposed. There’s nothing behind its eyes, you know.

In the kitchen, the dough rises in the bowl on the table and I imagine time reversing. Back to the wheat, back to the wood.

The iron stove hisses and the logs in the basket remain just logs. No elves to exchange them for children. Elf children, no children.

Down in the cellar, the autumn squashes are drying in the dark. I think I can hear their squeaking and quarrelling as their skin becomes tighter. As their insides get squeezed.

The stairs creak with my walking up them and the candlelight in the bedroom is warm and empty. I sit on the edge of the bed and I look at my husband. Together, we remember our old stories from back when he had hands.

When we were children, I tell him, we were cowboys and we were running. When we were children.

He turns his head away for a moment as though he’s bored, so I remind him about the cellar. About its velvet black space and its endless potential. He soon turns back round.

The scraping cold is taciturn at the window and the dew reflects the moonbeams.

At night, when I am by myself, I always dream of witches.

http://www.abctales.com/story/philipsidneynoo/cellars-northern-and-southern-hemisphere-part-2

Domestic Detail in the House of Dreams