The Tunnels

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


Submitted: July 14, 2018

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Submitted: July 14, 2018



The Tunnels


I went into the living room,

The carpet was growing.

Arabesque extensions were growing from the furniture,

Casting strange shadows beneath the ceiling.

I heard the movements beneath the floorboards.

I knelt down by the wall.

I pulled the carpet up a little.

I tried to peer through the cracks.

Beneath the floorboards,

Burrowing deep into the foundations of the house,

I watched the shadows constructing tunnels

Into the pleasures of the earth.

I had climbed beneath the house secretly

On many occasions,

To inspect the little hole

Now filled with dust and cobwebs,

Coated with concrete and once used

To keep butter and jelly cold,

Before the acquisition of a refrigerator.

I was convinced the hole had a false bottem,

Leading to the tunnels where the shadows

Were always hidden.

I had often caught a glimpse of an eye, or a nose,

Behind the rotting cane furniture stacked 

Beneath the house.

I had seen shadows moving around the brick foundations,

Their dark limbs against the clay ground,

Tunnelling to the pleasures of the earth.

Tunnels leading to vast caves and caverns

Filled with strange creatures,

Their disembodied heads floating like helium ballons

Trapped beneath the ceiling and the floor.

The shadows mined for precious stones,

In secret passages honeycombing the land

Beneath the house.

The shadows finished their journey

In my mother's bedroom,

Behind the large wardrobe filled with musty clothes.

I heard movements beneath the floorboards,

Invisible men commanded the shadows to work faster.

I surveyed the grounds of the house for sights

Of further exploration.

I knew the shadows constructed tunnels of pure crystal,

Of daimond paths filled with incense and rituals,

winding around and around,

To give any traveller a sense of well being,

Simple from the course that it charted,

The rythmn of its steps,

That lead down to a view

Of a vast underground toxic sea.

There a boy climbed on the rocks by the seashore,

And dived into the acid to refresh himself,

Before his skeleton returned to the seashore,

To balance on his beach ball,

Spinning shadows into the treacherous surf.

© Copyright 2019 tom mcmullen. All rights reserved.

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