Notes from I don’t know when.
How do you manage your big, big feelings in a life that expects you to forever keep a lid on things?
I picked, and bit, and peeled my fingers constantly. I bled all over the village. I tried to make friends, whilst wishing I could go unnoticed and pass through doorways like a spectre.
Visions of the sisters pacing. Pacing around the totemic dining table. The trio, a tiger, a wolf, and a lamb.
Dinner ingredients: pearl headed pins, smooth stones, sea glass, cockle shells, acorns, diary key, pencil shavings, tobacco, candlewax rolled into opaque balls.
Your treachery is monstrous.
I was as numb as a glass eye.
Why do places play heartbreak music so readily? Is it their idea of easy listening? I wasn’t lonely until I came in the breakfast room. “I’ve been waiting on my own too long...” Whilst that may be true, I don’t want to think about it over scrambled eggs, alongside a tweedy rambler, who is probably a widower trying to put some distance between him and the chintz armchair covers back at home.