The Demons Will Charm You
My short story was published by Landescapes Literary and Arts Journal! Thank you Peter Chilson for all your help.
Here's an excerpt from page 1.
September 2012: Present Day
   I find the diversity of noises in the city fascinating: Car alarms,Â
sirens, the gears clicking on bicycles, the tick of the crosswalks,Â
espresso machines pouring shots over ice as soymilk bubblesÂ
onto the counter… noises overlap and build. But, never from theÂ
people. People are quiet – plugged into their iPods and carefullyÂ
avoiding eye contact. What I find most interesting is that here IÂ
feel completely invisible. I can blend into the environment and getÂ
lost within the people and actions around me; let the city of SeattleÂ
cover me in its sounds and shroud myself in a jarring silence.
   However, as I sit beside the small tombstone in LakeviewÂ
Cemetery looking back on my life, there are no sounds. But there’sÂ
something tangible about this silence that I cling to. The way it fillsÂ
your ears just the way music or voices do, the way you peel awayÂ
layers of quietness to get at sounds beneath it. Layers that suffocateÂ
the senses; a heart beating on the eardrum – the same ominousÂ
tone with no decipherable pitch. I suppose I like it because I amÂ
always searching for noise — sitting up at three in the morning;Â
the creak of the house and the metallic clack of a dog’s tags outsideÂ
as his owner takes him for a pre-dawn walk and the wind againstÂ
the glass of my window. It is interesting though because we neverÂ
actually reach it. Silence is like being in the dark: we find shapesÂ
and sounds when we expect nothing. And silence means muchÂ
more when you can never have it.












