HIDDEN LOVE_Graphite Lines_On That Day and Forevermore_An Improved Version
Catalog Guide:
HIDDEN LOVE
The knock on the door made me come out of my thought session." come in", I said turning around from the mirror to see who it was "oh dad" he looked at me and let out a gentle sigh "hi honey your mom always wanted to give this to you when she thought was time but I think you need to have a look at it before you go" he placed a cream envelope on my study desk and closed the door behind him. I moved the suitcases nearby and plopped on my bed opening the envelope to see what it was about, "Eleanor" I started to read out loud when I heard my phone ring, I tossed the envelope into my tote bag, "hey ...
Graphite Lines
The sound of the graphite point scraping against cement. Drawing a line. Placing a hand on the cold wall. Pulling it away and inspecting the black dust. Is it ash or graphite? Her home had burned. She had been put here. She wore clothes of rags. Her hair was uneven and dirty. Her eyes had once been full of life and beauty. Now, they were empty. Devoid of what had been there. Once a week she showered. Once a day she ate. Once a month she gazed out the window, just to tell herself there was still beauty in the world. Once a year she got to go outside. Five years had passed, making 1825 lines on ...
On That Day and Forevermore
Numbness was a fickle thing. Some days, it would feel like the thinnest and most fragile veil, ready to tear apart and let the emotions consume me. On the rest of the days, it would be a thick, steel wall that showed no chance of reprieve. Reprieve of what? The numbness itself. On that day, the numbness was something that I invited and welcomed. It was a bliss that kept me away from the realities and cruelties of this world. But now, it has locked me away from everyone and everything else. I knew that to ask for its help would mean being ensnared in its trap. But on that day, I couldn’t have c...
An Improved Version
One day, Mrs Sharp stuck her pointy nose where it did not belong. This was not so particularly unusual, as Mrs Sharp was the sort of woman who thought her nose belonged wherever she put it. In her defense, she was trying to be friendly.“Have you been to see your parents lately?” She asked Andreas, her tenant. She was bringing in the mail; Andreas had a letter from his mother.“Of course,” Andreas answered distractedly. He hadn’t; he’d been avoiding his mother for a long time. She had different ideas about what he ought to do with his life than he did. “Thank you.” Not looking up from his book, ...