They follow me wherever I go, but are most visible and have the most character at home. The mysterious figures who watch me while I sleep.
In the middle of the night, I groggily shift my eyelids and catch a silhouette. Sometimes, in that first half-glance I can catch details of dress and demeanor. Of personality. A casual lean against the doorjamb. Writing on the door in earnest. Drinking a can of pop. Mocking curiosity.
Apparel varies also. The only female figure wore a drab brown drapey-type dress, reminiscent of movies of Roman times. The pop-guy was in basketball uniform (and quite tall). The curious one wore a green velvet cape with hood pulled up. Most frequent is a sly figure in top hat and trenchcoat.
In hotel rooms, they linger just beyond the crack in the curtains or around the corner in the "hall" leading to the door of the room.
Sometimes they scare me. Sometimes it's intrigue. Often I just want to know what they want. What is definite is that they disturb my sleep because, instead of simply half-opening my eyes when turning over in bed, I try to focus and concentrate on what I'm seeing. By the time I've fully waked and know what I'm seeing, they're gone.
Who or what are they? The play of light certainly draws them out. Here at home, they're most often in the doorway, where the streetlamp shines in through my study window and the bathroom light leaks through a crack in that doorway. I'm pretty sure that were I to permanently resolve that issue, however, I'd find my eyes pulled to another corner and there they'd be.
For now, I try not to wake J to tell him there's someone in the house and I focus on catching more details. Heck, they'll wake me anyway.