Damage Deposit

I just read that the Amityville Horror house in New York is on the market. As a Detroiter, this property is a bit out of my range, but it does beg the question -- who would buy such a place? Spaces, I believe, carry energy. I have a friend who lives in an apartment where an elderly woman was strangled. The apartment contains the energy. I loved one house I lived in, but the basement spooked everyone. My friend said it looked like the kind of space where bad things happened. Eventually I learned someone hung herself in it. Bad things, indeed. I was the only one that didn't get the creeps there. I felt a strange kinship to the dead woman, to her problems and pain.

When I was thirty, I lived in a generic place I hated, weighted down by possessions and a relationship I no longer wanted. The space seemed hard to endure. I missed the way the ghetto from which I had moved looked, I missed the energy of the streets. I had traded beauty for a nursing home level of security, a nursing home energy. A million times safer according to almost everyone, I felt my spirit start to die. The relationship followed suit as soon as the damage deposit was returned. We got almost all of it back, only charged for a blood-like stain near the couch, from where it came, no one could remember.

Michelle's Spell of the Day
"A writer is someone who can make a riddle out of an answer." Karl Kraus

Cocktail Hour
Anyone have a favorite summer cocktail?

Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Tuesday!