I am now certain “they” are out there, and getting closer. Can their intentions be good? All day, unless I play, I hear muted shuffling noises, little sardonic giggles, low whistles. They are mocking me, taking advantage of my present confusion. The terrace may be swept clean for now, for how long?
I could try to trap them, but would it be wise? What I really want is them to go away, to leave me in peace, to let me recover my mental health. And then this: I fear they are acting on orders. I dare not imagine on whose orders, horror. Today the rain stopped, the air is clean and colder. I savour an instant of silence. Perhaps they fear cold. Perhaps they are busy tormenting another poor soul. I have wondered if they feel threatened by beautiful sounds, by music. Or is it just that, when I play, my mind is off the hideous creatures? This is it: I must try harder not to be obsessed by them.
… Last night I saw her, the red-dress temptress. I recalled, vaguely, our first encounter, although I don’t remember where that was, other than it wasn’t here, but in the city. The temptation was pointless, for I am too tired, too overwhelmed by all the changes, the fear, the pain, to be interested in anything, or anyone. Only the music, and the clouds can now move me. But I tried, foolishly, to find out. About them. She pretended not to understand, and she disappeared quickly. Of course, they may well be her creatures. And this was a bad omen. I have been found, located, “they”, and their mistress or master, know where I am hiding.
But I won’t give in. I have weapons, and reliable friends. I am not finished.
