Catherine House

by Elisabeth Thomas

“The atman,” she was saying as she wrote, “is the individual self. The essential. That which travels through cycles of birth and rebirth. The brahman, that is, the Godhead, the ground of all being, the

I could feel the house behind me: its deep, dark, infinite body as twisted and corrupt as a forest.

but I didn’t like the cookies. Every time I ate them, my stomach filled with unsettled dread.

The fruits and vegetables were shrunken and strange. Our digestion was always upset.

There’s something here. Some special kind of power.”

“I never see anything right. My eyes are backwards. Everything I see is upside down.”