The exercise:
Let us discuss: the diary.
We got lucky with the weather this morning, as there was only a light drizzle for part of the time we were out in the garden. It was pretty nice to only do about half our usual harvest, even if it meant sacrificing our one full day off.
This afternoon I went to my doctor's office to get my head checked out. And not because I am crazy! Honest.
No, it was because a block of wood fell on it last night. (Don't ask. It's a stupid setup we have at our produce cooler that is now, well past time, going to be changed) Caught me just above my right ear, which, due to location and hair, makes seeing the wound clearly really difficult. I knew it bled a bit last night and had scabbed over by this morning, but I wanted to make sure I didn't need stitches and to make sure it was cleaned properly.
The doctor said it was more of an abrasion than a cut, and that the cause of the bleeding was likely a nicked artery. So all's well, and now I'm all up to date with my tetanus shots.
And my left arm hurts more than my head does.
Mine:
Dear Diary,
I don't understand what's going on. At all.
The love of my unlife has locked himself in the bathroom and is refusing to come out. He won't answer any of my questions, he refuses to listen to reason. Maybe, after all these years, he's lost his mind?
It's the not knowing that's eating me up inside. Well, maybe a few stray maggots as well. But you know what I mean!
If I knew what was wrong, I could fix it. This relationship can be saved, but only if I can see what the problem is. Surely he understands that! So why won't he speak with me?
I can think of nothing that I've done that might have caused this mental breakdown. Perhaps that means it has nothing to do with me. But then, what does it have to do with?
Or, more infuriatingly, who?
Something more is going on here, Diary. I intend to find out what. And when I do, there will be a reckoning.
Eternally yours,
Death
4 comments:
Ouch! A nicked artery sounds quite painful, but I guess if the doctor's happy that you're ok it can't be too serious. And yeah, tetanus injections ache for ages, but at least they last for ten years!
That's quite the produce cooler set-up you've got going on there then....
More from Death and Cupid! Very nicely done, with some delicately subtle touches in there (I particularly like "unlife"). You should perhaps considering doing a theme week around this sometime :)
The diary
Charles Ascuigimento, Head of Building Security, laid the last book on his desk. The office was quiet, and he was the only person in there. Somewhere outside a bat squeaked, fleeing through the air, pursued by a bigger, silent predator. Charles sat down in the leather chair behind the desk, squared the books neatly, and checked the time. It was one a.m.
The books on the desk were the diaries of his employees, the Building Security teams. Each had been extracted from its owner's locker, owner's bedroom, or owner's bag (and in one case from a safe in the back of a booby-trapped wardrobe). They were valuable, vital insights into the way that their owner's thought and worked, and Charles had decided to add them to their employee records.
He opened the first one, and started to read.
Dear Diary,
It sounds so insane when I say it out loud, so I thought I'd write it down and see if it sounds any saner on paper:
Michael is a Prince from a parallel world and it's his destiny to find me, bring me back and marry me.
Well, now it seem more like some sort of story. Still seems insane to think it's happening to me. Yes me. I'm only 16, but people used to get married that young. He's 18 so tha age difference isn't that bad, and apparently he's under pressure to get married.
I'm still not sure why he's picked me, aside form some sort of destiny and proficy (which I can't even spell right) and signs that prove I'm "The One".
He did admit that he loves me, and he wasn't expecting that. (Yes, I swone, I mean he is the handsomest kid in school.) It'd also allievate the issue of my Aunt being mad that I'm failing Math and science.
But what if he's soem sort of psyco path and this is all an elaborate scheme to kill me? Though that would also work to put me out of my current missery. Maybe I'd get to see my parents. And my brother, if this next round of treatment doesn't work, would be joinging me soon anyway.
I don't know, Diary. What do you think?
Sincerecly,
Christeen
Based upon my character from Christeen's Diary
My secrets are hidden
Between its leather binding
To read it is forbidden
But some need reminding
Greg - yeah, it's dumb. We have a sleeping bag draped over the front of it so that the sun doesn't shine in there and wilt our greens. We keep the sleeping bag in place with a couple of wood blocks on top of the cooler.
Recipe for head injuries.
And the thought of a theme week has been bouncing around my head lately. We'll see what comes of it.
Great details in there, particularly the booby-trapped wardrobe and the bigger silent predator.
Cathryn - oh my, that does seem like a whole lot for a poor 16 year old girl to handle!
Morrigan - that's excellent. Could be the start of a story, or just a dire warning within a story.
It's subtly sinister, which I think is the best part!
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