My Father_The Dahlia Show_The Little Boat_Car
Catalog Guide:
My Father
TW: parental abuse, self harm, suicidal ideation, murderMarch 6, 2020Today will be my first diary entry. But it cerwww.onedoor.cctainly won’t be my last.I hope that when I die, when all that’s left of me is a cold body, that you will find this book, and you won’t let the memory of me die.If you decide to do that, rest assured that I will haunt your memory forever.Yes, Father, I am talking to you. I am sure that a play of fates will ensure that you will be the one to find my body in the end. That is what you deserve, after all.I wonder whether you cried over my body or whether you let out a sigh of relief at...
The Dahlia Show
Father sat with his legs outstretched in front of the gas fire, his feet so close to the heat that the steam rose in a continual haze. He was still wearing his gardening clothes and the bottoms of his threadbare jeans were circled with mud which would eventually set solid and flake on to the carpet as he moved about the house.As he dozed his head flopped to one side, the light from the standard lamp emphasising the weathered skin of his face and the dark circles of tiredness under his eyes. Even in this restless sleep it was as if he was fighting off some yawning slumber that had grown from a ...
The Little Boat
"Someone came. Someone finally came!" I look out at the radiant sea, and the light, azure color of it fills my eyes. A boat. A small, flimsy, wooden boat was floating delicately towards us, almost looking like a toy you'd find a child playing with during bathtime. Hope begins to emerge inside of me, and I leap up and down, screaming, crying. The beauty of the water surrounding me often brought tears to my eyes, and I stared in awe whenever the waves lazily crawled onto the sand, selfishly clinging to it, only to be pulled away again and again. It's been like this for a while now, my only sourc...
Car
Clipping the spent bluebells, wondering whether it might be time to push in some short stakes to tie up the carnations and delphiniums before they begin to flop, a car pulled into the narrow lane near the house. Reversing slightly too fast, awkward because of the high brick wall running along the opposite side of the lane. She sensed a feeling of panic from the driver and his passenger. They weren't looking at her; they were watching each side of the car and the passenger looked keenly over his shoulder. As he did so, a small silver car came into sight. Both men got out on either side of the...