his neighbors paid him scant attention.
they did not suspect that he had a secret.
his secret was that he was possessed by a spirit.
the spirit of miss agatha morrison.
edward would have been unimaginably upset if anyone had suspected that he was possessed by miss agatha, and that he spent long hours, even days at a time, under her thrall.
the strange thing was that there was not really much difference between them.
edward had a sweeter tooth, took a little sugar in his tea, and enjoyed jelly tarts, whereas agatha preferred plain croissants.
edward’s favorite writers were booth tarkington, john p marquand, james branch cabell, and norman douglas.
agatha was partial to elizabeth von arnim, colette, and willa cather. and mystery novels, especially those of agatha christie.
edward professed some slight curiosity as to modern movements in art and music. agatha held them in complete contempt.
perhaps the greatest difference between edward and agatha was that agatha wore hats with wider brims.
edward’s greatest fears were never realized, and he passed away without his secret ever being discovered.
the servants in their silent shoes
brought me the paper with the morning news
which i perused with a silent prayer
of thanks that such was not my share
of fate to be recorded
in these chronicles of a world disordered
by passions insensible
and demands incomprehensible
the servants had no faces
the jam and crumpets left no traces
a silent demon smiled upon
the silken curtains carefully drawn
some day the servants will disappear
and i, ensconced in purple fear
will stand at my window as the dawn
reveals the monsters on the lawn