Tea Leaves_Missed you_The Summer Visit_One One-Thousand
Catalog Guide:
Tea Leaves
Early morning. Sadness envelopes me. I am making a cup of tea. I was never one for coffee. It always upset my stomach. I put the teapot up to boil. Not for me these fancy coffee/tea making machines. I like to do things on my own. It makes me feel like I am accomplishing something. Although, this morning I don't feel like I want to accomplish anything. But maybe the tea will help.The rays of the sun are shining brightly through the open window. There is a slight breeze. I can see the curtain moving gently. It looks like it will be a warm day. Maybe I will take my tea outside and sit in the war...
Missed you
The alarm clock screams at the weary man to remind him to motivate. His eyes are twitching and he wrestles with his dreams and responsibilities at the end of his slumber. He sleeps well for a man so tormented because he does the right thing. Day after day, he smiles and hides his loses deep within his mind and chest along with all his broken pieces. Slowly he wakes to the fan blowing on him and his dog. The most loyal thing in his life.He throws the covers over his dog, who isn't ready to face the world yet either, but they will. Slinging his short legs over the bed and stretching his neck he ...
The Summer Visit
-----------TW--------- Contains themes of self-harm, sex, and violence ---------Yellowish, purplish bruises covered my best friend's legs. The welts were like a watercolor patchwork overlain on the crisscross-y scars she had made years prior, from that darker and sadder place. The raised lines on her upper thighs were layered over themselves from many different sessions of slashing away at her own pale body. And perhaps what shocked me more than seeing the bruises now, was the fact that she chose to wear super short, black denim daisy dukes. Fine, it was summer, but I didn’t understand how sh...
One One-Thousand
One One-ThousandI love her. I have always loved her. The realisation dawns on me and takes my breath away, what little I have left. I rock back on my heels and resume pumping her chest, struggling to recall my High School First Aid class from thirty years before. Her body feels cold, lifeless, fragilwww.onedoor.cce under my rough hands: how I imagine her corpse will feel. Light-headed from the rescue breathing, I try to bury the thought and concentrate instead on squeezing her reluctant corpuscles around her body. One one-thousand, two one-thousand...Like the rhythmic ticking of a metronome, the mantra runn...