Solitude makes you see how animated your surroundings are when all along you thought it was just you.
The past few weeks has seen me locked up in my room after work, reading or watching television for a few hours or just listening to the silence around me. It was unnerving at first. Discomfort. Pure and unadulterated.
I have grown accustomed to this extended splodge of loneliness; like a heated balm it stung at first, then it burned and now it's a deep and beautiful warm pulse. The stillness around me has lost its inhibition. It now moves, darts and orbits magnificently; and then...suddenly - will lie dead, willing me to believe that I'm seeing things.
But I'm not. I see the dark spots on the marble floor slither to another section of the floor; wisps of shadows dart behind the chairs that face my bed; specks of light bullet into the ether like shooting stars - but only faster.
All of this happens simultaneously or at random and I dart my eye to the motion only to see it settle or hide.
I close my eyes and tried to replay them in my head...and all at once, all of those phantasmal '!did-its?' play out like a complete tape. And it is terrifying and beautiful at the same time.
I once leapt up and switched off the light and lay with my eyes wide open. The pitch black of the room waned to a milky-grey and then a tinge of blue dove into the room. Literally. I could see every square-inch of my cube.
As the coloured light crashed and receded; the decrescent night shook out its music. Zzzzzzzzzz...