This Year's Novel (awaiting title)...01. The World Will End [link]
02. Another Lesson [link]
03. Hospitality [link]
04. Routine [link]
05. A Broken Sword [link]
06. Breathing [link]
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2009.06 - BreathingHow did I get here? Looking at the ceiling, which seems five times further than it should be from where I am laid out on the floor of my cell. I try to focus my eyes, but the ceiling pulls away further. So I let them shut.2009.06 - Breathing
My mother is there. She is holding a bouquet of flowers. Roses. Six red, one white. She lets them fall to the floor. Sighs. Turns her back on me. I want to say something to her, but I am too ashamed. Suddenly, she turns to me with a look of pained anguish on her face, and a white tiger
by ~cinnamonjames
2009.05 - A Broken SwordTrue to his word, the guard - or rather, his servant - delivered a lid for my toilet bucket the next morning, during my daily ablutions. No mention was made of the storytelling episode, to the point where I felt awkward, like we were pretending it had never happened. If the guard shared my awkwardness, it didn't show. He conducted himself in the same cold, contemptuous, distant manner he had before. Another day dragged, and eventually passed, then another, and another.2009.05 - A Broken Sword
Nothing.
Which felt like going backwards. We had moved into a new phase.
by ~cinnamonjames
2009.04 - RoutineStart as you mean to go on. This motto has clearly been taken to heart by those who run this prison. No doubt they have it embroidered with cross stitching, and hung on the wall of the staff room, next to the poster of a kitten dangling from a tree, with the caption: "Hang In There!!!". And that's why a photographer is the worst person to have around in a crisis. A photographer would never think to stand ready to catch the little pet if it falls. Nope, they'd think of nothing but composing the shot, and then wonder if they have the time to wait to capture the poignant moment of grief when2009.04 - Routine
by ~cinnamonjames
2009.03 - HospitalityHer scent is familiar. I know it, but can't place it. Her weight is beyond my strength: I couldn't leave this bed if I wanted to. I am trapped, and I don't mind. I have fallen into this trap so many times, it makes this cell feel like home. She says not a word, and though she breathes, I do not feel any warmth where her face is buried in my neck. My arms are by my side, pinned in place beneath her. Pre-emptive capitulation. Surrender before the battle is even sounded.2009.03 - Hospitality
We are stood, holding hands, in the centre of my cell, and I can't rec
by ~cinnamonjames
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haiii!!!!
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*That if you say Goodbye today, i would ask you to be true, because the hardest part of this is leaving you*
With Love, Jude
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.<3. Kate
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