Monday April 15th, 2013

The exercise:

Write about: bedlam.

I really hate days like this.

Mine:

Shouts and screams all around. Panic on an overwhelming scale. Pushing, shoving, run away, run away, run away.

Just pick a direction and go.

Rooted to the ground, unable to think. Head on a swivel, searching for a way out. Where had the chaos started? Smoke. Find the smoke, find the smoke.

Just pick a direction and go.

Everyone else is moving. No common destination, but at least they are moving. A desire to join them sets my extremities to tingling. But what if I choose the wrong way? Would it be better to stay right here?

Just pick a direction and go.

A safe place. Have to find a safe place. Wait this out, in a safe place. Is anywhere safe?

Just pick a direction and go.

4 Comments:

Greg said...

Yeah, I saw the early news on that last night when no-one seemed to be quite sure what had happened. It's pretty bad.
I think you've captured the feeling of being caught in a disaster as it happens with your words. Nicely done.

Bedlam
Ok, so I actually know something about this! Bedlam is a contraction of Bethlehem, and is probably the best-known of London's Victorian asylums. Of course, being Victorian, the asylum was more a prison for the insane than any kind of hospital; the staff there were more for feeding and watering the inmates than treating their mental health, or even preventing people being wrongly incarcerated.
Because an insane asylum turns out to be a rather convenient place to store inconvenient relatives – after all, once you're inside who's going to believe you when you say you're not mad?
As for where it stood... well, the building still stands today, but it's been repurposed now. Bedlam has become the Imperial War Museum, and is approximately 20 minutes away from I live.
It's a little strange though, to look at the place knowing its history. Those high walls and the lack of windows suddenly seem just a little more sinister, really....

Marc said...

Greg - fascinating stuff! Oh the tales that those walls would tell, if only they had the words to do so...

Hmm.

*wanders off to ponder*

David said...

Do not let the lamb sleep. If it does, it is all over. Things will get crazy. Fire shall burn it all down. People shall scream. The lamb shall not get a mattress. Or a blanket. Or a pillow. There will be no lullaby or bed time story. Lambs belong in the pastures, teasing the wolves. Lambs are not meant to hold the key to humanity. But every so often they do. And we are all screwed when they lay down in their beds.

Marc said...

David - ... it must be late, and I must be tired. It took me far too long to get that.

But now that I have! Awesome :)