Shadow
The yellow wallpaper blinded him beneath the pure-white overhead light. He was a little drunk, but not enough to be seeing shadow puppets.
When he walked past the room, he swore he saw someone inside, dancing, masquerading around the room. He took a peek, but there was no one.
One entrance.
His shadow projected across the walls.He shook his head and laughed at his own gray outline.
He reached out toward the wall. The fingers grew from a shade of gray to black. As he touched them, they disappeared behind his hand. It must have been his imagination.
He pulled away, but something caught him, pulling him back toward the wall.
He stared at his hand.
Black fingers extended from the wall and laced through his own. The shadow moved independently of him.
The fingers grasped hard, and he began to scream. His other hand tried to rip the fingers away, but they were flat, painted onto his skin. A cold sting burned into him.
“Please!” he yelled toward the other room. “Someone help me, please!”
The shadow yanked him to the right, bringing him down to his knees, then jerked him to the left, as if it were trying to shake him off.
He braced his legs against the wall and pulled as hard as he could. His shadow mimicked his desperation—everything except the hands.
The light flickered, and each time full darkness hit him, he felt himself drift.
“No.”
He pulled so hard he thought his flesh would rip.
The lights went out.
He went out.
“Hey, I thought I heard someone yelling in here.”
A woman entered the room and flipped the light switch.
The bedroom was empty.
“Jess, come back out. This is your favorite song,” a voice called from the other room.
She looked around one more time. The wall seemed to have a faint shadow on it. Must have been sun damage.
She shrugged, turned off the light, and returned to the party.Her shadow followed each step.
I was standing in my room and the light was casting a huge shadow of my self on the wall. Now for some reason in my mind, the shadow is the realest thing in the world. It is a one to one, not projection, a figure of your self. There is no delay in the light bouncing. As in a mirror the light reflects off the mirror back into your eyes, there is a delay. The shadow is connected to you, fully, always. You move, it moves at the same time.
There is something in there, if you look deep. At least that’s what I think. It mesmerizes me when I stare deep into the back of my shadowed head.
Integrate it, it’s always with you. Cheers~