a question of perception……

Here’s a story for you for those times when you can’t sleep!

The building is certainly atmospheric, and on a darkening winter’s evening, when most have gone home, even more so.   The meeting had ended an hour earlier, but Dave and his social worker, Gerwyn, had stayed behind to help me wash up and tidy away what we had used.   I was leaving the library for the third time, with the last tray of cups and plates when I noticed Dave lying on the floor of the corridor.  He was starting to sit up, and seemed very confused.   I thought I heard him say ‘children’ twice, but then my attention was taken by the blood coming from his forehead and the shaking of his hands.   Gerwyn came around the corner at that moment, and once he had recovered from his shock, helped me get Dave onto a bench in the corridor.   Dave seemed very unwell and agitated, and refused to remain on the bench so that we had to move him to a chair in the main hallway.  Here we had some light from the outside floodlights, and although they threw silhouettes of the windows onto the stone flagged floor, we could at least see the extent of the cut to Dave’s head.    I wished I had bothered to remember the position of the light switches.   Dave’s breathing became panting, and then he fell forward onto the table.  He talked to himself but not to us, and Gerwyn insisted that we should call an ambulance.    

“Of course” said Gerwyn, “it is all a matter of perception.  For some people these experiences are just a coldness down their spines, and for others they can seem very real.   Dave has always been inclined towards the dramatic, and today he overdid it and believed he saw something!”

We were standing outside in the darkness listening to the howling of the ambulance as it sped away towards the A 449.   “That is real enough” I muttered to myself, “but then is it?   I can hear it, but I can’t see it, so is it really there?  Am I really here?”  I came out of my thoughts to hear Gerwyn droning on, “What we don’t know is whether Dave did see, or thought he saw something before collapsing in the hallway?”   He laughed, self-consciously, and waited for me to say something in support of his theories.   To humour him I made noises that sounded like agreement, and together we went back into the building to finish our work.  Gerwyn said that he would finish in the kitchen if I would like to do the rest of the tidying in the library.   He seemed glad to get back to where the light’s were bright.   As I started back down the shadowed corridor to the library I heard the children again.   The girl was crying.   Then they were there, turning in front of me, the boy cuddling the girl.   Together they moved, or rather glided ahead of me into the blackness.   This I had seen twice before, but I still gave a shiver as a cold draft passed my face.   What I did not expect was the sound of a man sobbing behind the door to the right – a door I have never seen opened.    But then as Gerwyn said, the building is atmospheric, and its’ all a matter of perception.     

If you have a story of your own that you would like to share, then send it in.  

  

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