Excerpt from The Eyes in the Wall of the Basement The basement had eyes. The basement had eyes and in the dark Aline swore she could see them staring back at her. She carefully reached her hand out and pet the wall, knowing that, once again, she would feel nothing. Her hands traced over where The Eyes should be, imaging lashes and brows. The Eyes were brown, at least that’s how Aline liked to imagine them. They would sparkle in the sun; they would glow in the moonlight. They were Aline’s only friends. After months in the darkness, Aline woke up to discover that The Eyes had a mouth. It was a nice mouth. It wasn’t pink, or red, or mouth colored. Rather, it was the shadow of lips dipping under The Eyes. Aline sometimes pretended they were red, though. Not natural red, but cherry colored lipstick red. Maybe The Eyes were going out to a party. Eventually, Aline and The Eyes starting talking. Well technically, Aline and the mouth started talking, but Aline had been alone 28 Pillars of Salt
with The Eyes for so long that she thought of the mouth as just a subset of The Eyes, not their own thing. The Eyes had a deep husky voice, as if getting over a cold. Aline, on multiple occasions, had offered The Eyes a cough drop, before realizing that she lacked all basic essentials, and most definitely did not have a cough drop. “It’s coming soon,” The Eyes whispered to her one morning (at least Aline assumed it was morning. It was hard to tell when everything was always so dark). Aline scowled at The Eyes, questioning them in her head. The great thing about talking with The Eyes was that they didn’t require Aline to speak out loud. Just thinking was enough for her to get a response, which was very helpful considering how rough her voice was. “I can hear them,” The Eyes clarified. Aline tilted her head, trying to hear what The Eyes claimed they were hearing. She found herself crawling towards the basement door to hear better. The Eyes were right. Aline heard the light sounds of footsteps drawing
