The Tell-Tale Heart

              Edgar Allen Poe is seriously one of my favorite writers. When you just get a craving for the macabre Edgar Allen Poe has got your fix. The Tell Tale Heart is one of my favorite, but The Raven is one that I literally know by HEART.

             Anyway, in the Tell-Tale Heart the narrator is truly insane. When you have to repeat to people or keep trying to convince them your not insane, your insane. But the narrator is an evil genius, well at least according to him. He murders the old man without a single visible drop of blood. When the police go around asking about the scream, what gets him to confess to what he has done is his madness. I know a lot of people say that it is not really guilt that gets him to confess but I think guilt may have played a tiny role in his confession. After all he actually liked the old man, it was just his evil eye that bothered the narrator. That is why he hesitated each night. Why it took eight days for the narrator to kill the man. All those other nights the man was asleep, the evil eye nowhere to be seen. On the eighth night, though, the evil eye made an appearance and that’s what drove the narrator to commit murder. For in some cultures the only way to get rid of the evil eye is to destroy it. But then after killing the old man the narrator could no longer see the evil eye. He just saw the dead old man and that’s when a little speck of guilt entered the narrators mind. This speck of guilt and the madness was what drove the narrator to confess.

And Now The Falling Stars

            Legends, myths, and just any sort of stories are created and then disappear. Such a story is that of Stardust. When one looks up at the night sky, mesmerized by the stars, and takes the time to just look, you have to make sure to count a hundred falling stars. Then while dreams shelter you from the outside world, stardust appears on your hair, bringing good luck and that which you most desire. Over time though, people have become preoccupied with other things, no longer looking up. No longer taking the time to breathe. Few know the story now and even those that know it, do not believe it.

            A light summer breeze encases around those still weaving through quiet Chicago streets. Curtains turn into waving colorful flags peeking out of open windows.

           With the clock just shy of midnight, while many ready themselves to escape into dreamland, Selene’s night has just begun. She gathers her lawn chair, a small bag that contains some snacks and a light blanket, a flashlight, and her telescope. She makes sure to have her keys, locks her door and walks toward the back of the little garden.

            It is the type of garden that has a certain magical quality to it. It is surrounded by a six foot wall, covered in miles and miles of curling vines. Some look as if they are reaching and waving towards the sky and defying gravity to do as such. Once Selene’s feet touch the watered grass, she smells the always comforting aroma of roses, cosmos, forget-me-nots, lilies, and the damp earth underneath her. The most magical part of the garden was the fact that once in the garden the sky opens up. It is as if you have been transported to another place. There is no evidence of ever being in the city. Millions of stars become visible and the only true light is borrowed from the silvery moon.

            Today the annual Perseids meteor shower will be making an appearance.

            Every year Selene convinces her parents to let her stay up to watch. Every year she falls asleep before her eyes have time to adjust to the night sky and be able to see the falling stars. She had been drinking coffee since the morning. She was becoming quite jittery.

            It was now one o’clock and Selene starts to assemble her telescope. It is nothing fancy. It had been a Christmas present from her eldest sister and she loved it. She does not know how to work it properly, but it would have to do. She prefers to just stare up and see how much her eyes can catch.

            A small movement caught Selene’s eye. The small rose bush rustles as if someone was trying to escape its thorny grasp. She quickly runs to retrieve her flashlight to see what was behind the bush. As soon as she turns on the flashlight a small, dark furry thing jumps out. A small scream starts to build up in her throat but before she has the chance to let it surface she realizes what it is. The neighbor’s cat, Skittles.

          “Skittles, you scared me. What are you doing here?”

           Of course the cat’s only response is to meow.

           It is a beautiful cat. Black fur with small white ear tips. Its eyes the same color of a lemon. It was a very playful cat and Selene always liked to have her around.

           With Skittles curled up on the lawn chair and two o’clock nearing, Selene aims the telescope towards the sky and waits for her eyes to adjust. At first the only thing to be seen is the speckled sky. Stationary stars and the moon. But then the smallest hint of movement and ribbons of light begin to appear. The view is truly spectacular. More and more frequently the stars travel their journey through the dark sky.

            She remembers a story her grandmother had once told her. A story about counting a hundred falling stars. She forgot most of the details, but she begins to count anyway.

            Selene stays up for the whole thing. Coffee had been a great idea even though she was a bit too jumpy.

            As the sun starts to streak the sky with pink, orange, yellow, and blue hues, Skittles and Selene lay nestled on the lawn chair. The chill of a new day wakes them up. The grass is covered in newly formed dew and birds sing their morning songs. She gathers her things, heads for home and collapses on her bed. Sometime between dreams of next year’s Perseids and summer days, shimmering hints of stardust cover her dark, ebony hair.