07-01-2023, 10:48 PM
Day 4:
Evelyn comes to on the couch. It’s morning. She rubs her eyes and takes stock of the room -
everything in its place. Panic strikes and she runs through the house calling out for Tom. He’s not home.
She stops at the threshold of the kitchen, leaning against the outer wall - pressing her fingers
against her temples. She squints her eyes and moans. The pain passes and she runs down the
hall into a spare bedroom - rifles through a few drawers and comes out with a pen and small
stack of paper.
She rushes to a chair in the dining room and begins scribbling madly on one of the sheets,
then another, and another. This goes on until all the sheets are filled - eleven pages in total.
They fan out before her on the table, she stares down at them, breathless.
Then another dose of the searing pain. She clamps her hands on either side of her head, slides
from the chair onto the floor and lays beneath the table making harsh guttural sounds.
An hour later, Tom finds her sleeping in the same spot. He sees the mess of papers scattered
across the table. Crouching down, he gently nudges her shoulder.
“Lyn? Lyn!”
Evelyn turns over, sees Tom and begins crawling out. Bloodshot eyes and lost expression - she takes
a seat and tries piecing together the events of the last two hours.
She gathers her papers into a loose pile - Tom looking on cautiously.
“I think I know what’s going on.” she says.
“OK.” Tom replies.
“I woke up, things were fuzzy - but then, my thoughts started racing! All these ideas, this information
came flooding in.”
Tom sits quietly.
“I don’t know where it all came from - but it makes perfect sense.”
“OK.” he says once more.
“I’ve been jumping timelines.”
Tom takes a deep breath and exhales.
“I know it sounds - "
“Evelyn?” he interrupts.
She picks up the stack of papers and taps them onto the table three times and sets them back down.
“Things have been out of sorts lately, for both of us.”
Evelyn fidgets in her chair.
“A lot has happened in a short amount of time.”
She sighs, then glances out a window.
“Hey.” he says.
She turns back to face him.
“I think it would be good for you to see someone, to talk to about things.”
She locks eyes with him.
“So it’s not enough for you to dismiss me, I need a stranger to call me crazy too?”
“I’m not - "
“You’re not listening, you’re also not even allowing me to explain any of this!” she says slapping her
hand down on the stack of papers.
“I skimmed over those before waking you.”
“And?”
“And it looks like the busy-work of an unwell person.”
Evelyn glares at him for several seconds before picking up her papers and walking from the room.
https://imgur.com/7NLhfAq
"They Speak" - Third in the five-part series 'Unseen'.
Mixed media on plywood. My 123rd painting.
Evelyn comes to on the couch. It’s morning. She rubs her eyes and takes stock of the room -
everything in its place. Panic strikes and she runs through the house calling out for Tom. He’s not home.
She stops at the threshold of the kitchen, leaning against the outer wall - pressing her fingers
against her temples. She squints her eyes and moans. The pain passes and she runs down the
hall into a spare bedroom - rifles through a few drawers and comes out with a pen and small
stack of paper.
She rushes to a chair in the dining room and begins scribbling madly on one of the sheets,
then another, and another. This goes on until all the sheets are filled - eleven pages in total.
They fan out before her on the table, she stares down at them, breathless.
Then another dose of the searing pain. She clamps her hands on either side of her head, slides
from the chair onto the floor and lays beneath the table making harsh guttural sounds.
An hour later, Tom finds her sleeping in the same spot. He sees the mess of papers scattered
across the table. Crouching down, he gently nudges her shoulder.
“Lyn? Lyn!”
Evelyn turns over, sees Tom and begins crawling out. Bloodshot eyes and lost expression - she takes
a seat and tries piecing together the events of the last two hours.
She gathers her papers into a loose pile - Tom looking on cautiously.
“I think I know what’s going on.” she says.
“OK.” Tom replies.
“I woke up, things were fuzzy - but then, my thoughts started racing! All these ideas, this information
came flooding in.”
Tom sits quietly.
“I don’t know where it all came from - but it makes perfect sense.”
“OK.” he says once more.
“I’ve been jumping timelines.”
Tom takes a deep breath and exhales.
“I know it sounds - "
“Evelyn?” he interrupts.
She picks up the stack of papers and taps them onto the table three times and sets them back down.
“Things have been out of sorts lately, for both of us.”
Evelyn fidgets in her chair.
“A lot has happened in a short amount of time.”
She sighs, then glances out a window.
“Hey.” he says.
She turns back to face him.
“I think it would be good for you to see someone, to talk to about things.”
She locks eyes with him.
“So it’s not enough for you to dismiss me, I need a stranger to call me crazy too?”
“I’m not - "
“You’re not listening, you’re also not even allowing me to explain any of this!” she says slapping her
hand down on the stack of papers.
“I skimmed over those before waking you.”
“And?”
“And it looks like the busy-work of an unwell person.”
Evelyn glares at him for several seconds before picking up her papers and walking from the room.
https://imgur.com/7NLhfAq
"They Speak" - Third in the five-part series 'Unseen'.
Mixed media on plywood. My 123rd painting.
