Monday, February 28, 2011

Edmund T. Blockhouse

Photo from the work of Kevin Cravillion
Find his work here

This idea came in a dream over a year ago. Immediately after waking, I found my journal and pen and started to write. I hope to have more to share about Edmund and his rare abilities later.  

Anything Edmund T. Blockhouse drew came to life. When he was four-years-old, acres and acres of flowers surrounded his home though he lived on the seventh floor of a Queens apartment building. A visitor to the Blockhouses would step off the elevator into a meadow of neon pink daisies and glittery, golden chrysanthemums. If he looked back to the elevator, he’d discover he stepped out of a hedge and had no choice but to walk through the sweet William and roses to the Blockhouse’s four-room castle. A visitor to anyone else on the hall would find the usual depression in the carpet and florescent lights, but walking past the Blockhouse apartment he’d smell honeysuckle and lilacs.

Mr. and Mrs. Blockhouse had no way to explain the phenomenon, no one on either side of the family exhibited any strange behavior, except Uncle Herman who taught his pet chicken to dance, and that wasn’t really the same thing, but since the garden didn’t require mulching and kept the door-to-door newspaper subscription sellers away, they were content to let it be. But Mrs. Blockhouse often wondered if the family spent time in the garden were they really sunning themselves in the vestibule or playing catch in the laundry room. No one complained, so by the time Edmund was four-and-three-quarters, she stopped worrying about that, too.

Around this time, Edmund discovered thunderstorms. Mrs. Blockhouse, arriving home from work on a fine December day, found a torrential downpour soaking the still perky flowers. She crouched in the hedge and called home on her cell phone—which got perfect reception in the garden—and asked Mr. Blockhouse to please ask Edmund to draw sunshine or at least an umbrella and galoshes.


  1. Thanks Clara!

    I now notice some typos and punctuation hiccups, but those will be corrected.

  2. Kristy,

    You are lovely and you make me smile. Thanks!

  3. Makes me think of another writer used painting & drawings in his stories. Will have to tell by another medium.
    Moskeeto Jack