day 366 in strangelands. no wisdom. just plots to escape.
when eyes are shut there is not darkness.
there is a sailing boat and lots of arms reaching towards. lots of stars. open/close
the escape route becomes blocked and millions panic. 'so how often do you go running'?
the stuttering man calls again, poor thing. try and make it easier.
fred west is pruning the hedges, glaring. maybe cos i dont say hello? how the hell should i know. just water everything down.
'i go three times a week so the novelty doesnt wear off'.
back to the sandwiches. and a fine selection there is.
send them away with a bag of pills and a pacemaker, too sick to eat, too thin to move.
its been one year. i have drowned it out with sound.
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2 comments:
When its all over, you'll walk out the door stronger. Its not a life sentence, it was a brief incarceration. There are no locks on any of the doors. Love you x
now that is the most reassuring thing you've ever said. many thanks mr thomas. the door is so close to flying open and out i will flee. xxx
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