Night after night, this shadow was present within a room in the lower quarters of the haunted home.
Night after night, each listening mind rested in between white lace and translucent glass, completely transfixed.
Their thoughts, if translated in writing, would bear naked words scratched in between windowpanes. Scratched deeply. Perpetually engraining the manic curiosity within their gentle, wheezing souls.
None of these seventeen ever met the man who lived within the whispering walls, at least while he was alive. If they had, they would have found him to be brave and gentle. Just like them.
After a few minutes, Herman’s reflection in the pristine tank allowed for a distraction from his morose thoughts. It was seemingly dire that he should straighten his tie, his favorite tie. There were two main reasons why he considered this his favorite tie. First and more obviously, the muted colored stripes were utterly pleasant to look at, especially as the tie hung on his disheveled rack with other ties of not so stylish grandeur. Second, it was a gift.
His feeble hands managed to perfect the tie’s position. A sigh was released and his thoughts returned to Glubber. Unbeknownst to Herman, some time passed. A sharp knock on the door slightly startled him.
He crouched over near the window to see quite a gathering outside. A choir of voices pierced through the dead air, “Hello, sir? Hello. We’re from across the street. Hello?”
Herman moved toward the entrance and turned the key. He opened the door, slowly.