b
Did I mention that there were any windows in this room?
Probably not.
There are two anyway.
One looking to the sea and the other looking to the land.
This makes for an interesting contrast. In terms of smell and vision. But it also makes for better reading. My father taught me that!
—Always use strong contrasts in your stories son, he would say. They appeal to people.
Ah yes!
People.
I nearly forgot.
My father the poet and writer caring for the people.
I will miss him.
In all his goodness and his badness. In all his mercy and his fits of rage.
I particularly remember his conversations with my mother.
—Did you take your tablets, she would say, her shrill voice adumbrating the terrible anxiety that resided in my heart.
—No!
Ha!
He should have taken his fucking tablets.
Bastard!
Maybe then he would have loved me more. Maybe then I may not have ended up here, wherever here is, for whatever reason I am here.
Calm.
I am sure my being here is connected to him.
On the fucking mercy seat for the remainder of my days.
Calm.
Why do words only sometimes work?
I am sure all will be revealed, in good time. Nothing like a good plot unfolding.
Keep writing and it will come good. Father’s words.
—Either you will hit on it yourself or someone will arrive in and eventually give you the lowdown.
—Son!
It would not surprise me now if a half dressed man posing as a lunatic burst into this room and told me the world had ended and that he and I were the only survivors.
—Are you my father?
Ha!
Such nonsense.
Thought I would imagine given enough time it will all come back to me. The fact of my presence in this particular room.
Evidently.
For it is this pencil and paper which has guided me towards these simple musings.
It is such an amazing thing writing.
No sooner have you something said than you now longer give a flying fuck for it.
It’s true.
Write anything down.
It might as well be written in brains and blood.
It was love that first made me write. Or at least what I thought was love.
Listen!
The lights suddenly went off.
Shhh.
Of course, I could continue to write in the dark. But I won’t be able to read it until the morning.
Is this important?
No.
Where is my mobile phone?
If I had it I could shine a light on the darkness.
See my feet.
Only the left one now is bound. Getting better. Moving forward. Should be able to walk soon.
Maybe then I can get out. Escape.
What was I talking about?
I cannot remember.
Oh yes, the windows.
The two of them.
One facing the. Yes. You get the picture. The other.
But I must tell you.
I cannot see out of them.
For they are too high up.
How do I know they face the sea and land, you say.
Elementary, my dear readers, I say!
Elementary!
