The Torn Veil

 

July 2022 - Mythos II zine - Ghost stories of Norwich
"ZAKS. Barrack St, Norwich NR3 1TS. Once the city morgue, the building that now houses Zaks waterside diner is infamous as one of Norwich’s most haunted buildings. Staff members have reported glimpses of figures they cannot explain, objects being moved and in one case a jug exploding on a shelf and hearing their names called, with them responding before realising they were working alone."

The Torn Veil: Zaks

 

In a small out-house, down a set of slippery sand stone steps, black

ripples eddy around the great body of water

The sheds and buildings shown little love    

in this dank backwater, the river by the building gulps sullenly behind a veil         

of choke weeds, convolvulus and nightshade, deep  

under the structure, the eternally turning Other.

 

In a corner stands a girl, one and another.     

All Celtic curiosity concertinaed up, stamped down and bound in black.    

Mourning satin for an Aunt who left her unloved and deep 

Distrust as she was disposed of like a Moses bundle in the water.

Hard work and solitude have marked her young life and kept her thoughts behind a veil.

But here she hopes. This wild place, these waters, may turn from trap, into love.

 

She is not alone, there is a man. A brooding, troubled soul. 

The wheel turns and the spinner spins her story of another. 

Wife, the ghost bride, in a torn veil.  

The shuttle flies and the pattern grows on the loom next to the pit of black waters.

And the wheel, turning, turning as Arachne’s silence is broken by the        

clack, clack of the loom with secrets deep.

 

This man’s troubles run lay-line deep

Bound to a lost woman, she has forgotten love         

Mis-remembered who she is,

She curses and plots to destroy the other      

The one who has her tied by ectoplasmic strands to this river bank, this edifice.    

Her horizon of freedom is curtailed by this consuming other.

The circle of fire scintillates around his soul, un-damped by water.

 

The wheel turns, and she feels her-self drop like a stone into the water       

Rent asunder and torn is the veil       

Replayed conversations and images of the other      

Flood back to her as she sinks deep

Under the water, caught in the wheel of love

The pressure, the asphyxiating cold as the world goes Black.

 




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