A Narrative The below is signed testimony by David Shelly on the events that occurred on the 14th and 15th of February 1969.

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The blue sky bled into the bedroom. The light cut through my eyes and i awoke. The door was ajar. I got up. Walked into the kitchen. Began preparing breakfast. Gas trickled into the grill and flamed blue. Strips of bacon and slices of tomato. Thinly sliced, grilled lightly in bacon fat. Crisped bacon. Turned the gas to off. It was then i heard a whimper. The whimper came from the closet pantry, food stores. I was holding, still holding, the knife used to slice tomoatoes. Tomato juice dripped and fell. The sponge on the sink crept. The pantry doors opened.


The blue sky bled into the bedroom. The light cut through my eyes and i awoke. The door was ajar. I got up. Walked into the kitchen. The lower portion of a left leg sat in the grill. Golden locks of hair garnished the leg. I fell to the floor. More golden curls sparkled from the pantry closet. Sparkled wet in the dark bottom shelf. The knife used to slice tomatoes lay silent on the floor. Tomato juice dripped and fell. The sponge on the sink crept. The pantry doors closed.  ¶ 9:27 pm 1 Comments

  Get Well Dear Jane,

i firmly believe now that what i did, that is to say what i have done, was the correct action. Correct in the sense that i believe it genuinely reflected myself at the time, and correct in believing that it would amount to further action that would benefit all parties. Let's not beat around the bush here for one moment. I, we, could have spent the night together. Face down that was seemingly an option at the time. But as time would have it, such it would not be, and for my part i cannot regret it. It's not that the desire was not there, but it was a desire in a great many play of desires. A game in which decision is action. Let it not be said that this has caused me sleepless nights. And it is true some such desire for intimacy is very much alive. Yet this is not for the purpose of my writing.

For the sake of brevity; my sweet Jane, get well soon.

DH  ¶ 3:17 pm 1 Comments

  luck suck he brushes twice a day. once in the morning, usually before breakfast, after a shower. just to get the overnight gummed up taste of pillow out of the mouth. makes breakfast taste better. always a good rinse after breakfast with a glass of water, but he never felt obligated to brush again so soon even after a meal. And then once more before settling into his room only to reappear in the morning. there might be the small snack in the room. or perhaps even a light drag of a flavoured ciggerette. and on these odd occasions he would curse his weak willed body for succumbing to such late night pleaasures, as the morning breathe would attest for such activities. he loathed it. He would pursue a firm elongated brush. Beginning with rigorous short strokes from the right hand his mind would catch himself hurrying through the task and so he would take the tooth brush with the left hand and continue at a considered pace. the left hand needed consideration. although he had built some dexterity and a little strength in his weaker arm over the years it still lacked discipline and would give up on the task too quickly. he would make sure he covered each and every tooth and gum with his left before returning the brush to the right and wrapping up the whole conquest. a quick rinse of the brush, and quickly looking for its case. he would always have a case for his tooth brush no matter the circumstances. that behaviour began when he discovered that the humble cockroach adored human saliva and would seek it out. of course the tooth brush was a store house of saliva. so great had this fear grown that he would not use a tooth brush that had not been covered. not that he had ever witnessed the phenomenon of a cockroach delighting upon a tooth brush, but he had surely dreamt enough that the fear was all too real for him. however on this very night he discovered a new fear. as he spat and rinsed into the sink he noticed a pallid pink discolouring of the ejected toothpaste. he quickly swung round to the mirror. his gums were bleeding.  ¶ 12:09 am 0 Comments

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