Hey y'all. Well, if I don't finish the story I had in mind, I wanted to contribute something to the Jam - both as a judge, and one of the coordinators of the Writers Bloc. Just so you don't think me a lazyass, y'know? XD So here's a poem that I wrote a while ago. Hopefully you'll see a short story from me later tonight!
This space is unaccounted for.
A three by three by two nest
of wood and insulation that
stretches through the ceiling,
up into the attic, down into
the glass cabinets. This space
is not on blueprints, does not
hold pipes or furnaces or
anything of importance, but
knocking against its surface,
you'll find it anything but hollow.
The previous owner locked and sealed
her away, though you can hear her scratching,
insistently, impatiently against the wood.
Over time she has created a hole just big
enough to stretch her fingers through,
taking a hold of the shadows and twisting
them into different shapes like clay.
She'll make things move out of the corner
of your eye, tugging them back into place
before you finish turning around, she'll
rekindle the burnt-out ashes of the fireplace
to create just enough of a spark to make you
look closer, make you wonder if those
two black eyes and wide grin in the smoke
is just a trick of the light. And when she's
satisfied, she'll pull herself back, curling
up tightly with a vague smile, wondering
if, eventually, you'll get curious enough
to pry the boards open and look inside.