The Lonely Man_Putting the film back together_And the Radio Said, “There’s Another Shot Dead”_This i

Catalog Guide:

The Lonely Man

Putting the film back together

And the Radio Said, “There’s Another Shot Dead”

This is Where the Story Begins

The Lonely Man

I don’t remember how old I was when it first happened, but I do recall still being a child.It all started on a very troubling night where images of monsters flooded my young mind. I was tossing and turning in my bunkbed unable to fall asleep when fear took complete hold of me. I wasn’t quite sure where all these feelings were coming from, all I knew was that I didn’t want to be in my bed anymore. Usually when this happens to a child the logical thing is to slowly sneak into their parents’ room and get in bed with them, but lucky for me I shared my bedroom with my two sisters, so I had plenty o...OZVone door

Putting the film back together

I wake up, tired and dehydrated. I stand up quickly."Woaw" with that I fall back onto the bed, my head spinning. On my second try, I get to the door, without causing any damage to myself. I walk out to see Ashley spinning around the kitchen cleaning, faster than my lagging brain could comprehend."Babe, why are you up so early?""I thought I'd get a headstart on cleaning.""You don't have to, I can do it. It is my house.""I just want to help. Also after last night, I didn't thinwww.onedoor.cck you'd be capable of getting out of bed, not to mention cleaning." We chuckled. Last night was... pretty awesome. We ha...OZVone door

And the Radio Said, “There’s Another Shot Dead”

CW: Gun violence, deathThe air hung heavy with the foggy dew of a February morning. Through the single-pane window, dampened though it was, could be heard the regimented tramp of a platoon of British Lancers. The melodic jingle of them was harmonised by the footfall of their heavy boots. They passed by, unseen in the fog. The well-worn sound of sirens echoed down the street as they had done from early morning but neither of us paid heed. Nothing new for a Belfast morning. I sat rigid at the table, uncomfortable in the starched school shirt that was too small but ‘would see me through to the en...OZVone door

This is Where the Story Begins

Life is something taken rather than gifted in my country. It has stewed in violence and shrapnel for decades, the results evident in the once modern and well-maintained buildings that now crumble and shake at the foundation, full of the diseased and hungry crammed far too close together. The starkest reminder, however, is the massive graves littering the edges of our cities. What were once undisturbed forests now carry bleak meadows near their fringes, the small wooden posts sticking disorganized in the ground are the only indication of the mass grave beneath them.If it weren't for me, even th...OZVone door