the humble abode

[autumnsoliloquy90]

There is a hut in the middle of a padi field, somewhere in the recesses of my childhood memories. It has a low thatched roof made out of dried coconut tree leaves, and shaky walls of termite-infested plywood and corrugated steel. The padi field is dead, abandoned -- I think the rich landowning owners migrated to greener padi fields many seasons ago -- leaving only the half-irrigated mud and the rotting corpses of rice stalks drowned by monsoon rains.

They say it is haunted, but I've been there, once, if my memory serves me right, if this isn't but a figment of my juvenile invention. There are no ghosts there, only nothingness, not even silence, for there is frogs' mating basses for company, and the calmest centre of the universe residing within those four-point-five walls.

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