Movie week continues on to Day 2 with: The Departed.
As a reminder, your writing doesn't need to (and probably shouldn't) have anything to do with the movie itself, just its title.
You may have noticed the blog has been lacking in pictures recently. Well, there's a good reason for that: I haven't been taking very many. And no, there's no good reason for that.
Anyway. Today was beautiful and nearly wind-free, so I brought my camera with me on a trip into town and stopped to take this picture of the lake:
More days like this one, please.
I move through the house, allowing my gaze to fall on anything that catches my attention. The broken coffee mug on the kitchen floor, the unfinished letter on the dinner table. There is no pen nearby and I make a note of this absence.
Could be nothing. Could mean everything.
Surveying the living room from the short hallway that separates it from the kitchen, it's impossible to ignore the bloodstained carpet. Detached. That's the word for me. I should feel something though, shouldn't I?
After all, that's my blood I'm looking at.
That's what those police offers said anyway. After they'd had my body taken away. Maybe if I'd been here for that an emotion or two would have bubbled to my ethereal surface. Maybe a memory would have been sparked.
As it is, I feel nothing. I remember nothing.