'BEING NORMAL' I submerged myself long enough for my chest to tighten and my heartbeat to quicken. It resounded off the porcelain sides and into my ears, throat and wrists. When I rose back out of the water, I opened my eyes to Dee sat cross legged on the toilet seat. I stared at her … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #6
STRESS IS AN OPEN DOOR "She is sat at the bus stop, arms crossed, when I reach her. Her eyes lift to mine as she hears my scattered breaths and clunky steps. I see in hers a hate and kindness I cannot untangle. Necklace chains of every emotion she must have felt in the last … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #5
Sitting still "My attempt at conversation was feeble at best. We talked about the weather and when the TV programme ended I asked, ‘What’s next?’ ‘You could run a bath and then go to bed. You could paint your toenails, mess up and start again. You could hang those photos you’ve been meaning to for … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #4
Bad habits are cages ‘I know how it feels to be trapped.’ She replied, and then stood in silence waiting for me to unlock the car. Dee (a novel in progress) - Kristiana Reed Bad habits are cages and I know how it feels to be trapped. Bad habits have a habit of replacing each … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #3
The unpredictability of Dee I knew her comfort was poisonous. It was bottled in glass the same shade as my envy from Saturday night. I still accepted it; unable to battle the lullaby close to my ear and every delicate drag through my hair. It was witchcraft or my weakness. My inability to see friend … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #2
Little acts of braveryEvery day this week, thus far, I have opened the curtains in every room. You would be right in thinking this is a metaphor for letting the light in. It is similar to polishing ageing ornaments or dusting away the cobwebs. Whenever Dee arrives, I hide. I close every curtain, put my … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #1
'Her face was both changed and unchanged. She still had sharp, pixie features. Her lips were childishly full and the corners still turned downwards. Her eyes shone like pebbles washed with waves but did not glisten. The dull pallor of her skin and crow’s feet suggested she was older. As did her height. This was … Continue reading The Dee Diaries
