Isle of Skye

Introduction  "Writing is my passion. But..." "... but you haven't found a way to earn money from it. Whenever you feel inspired to write, just write. Don't worry about the fact you should, logically, be doing something more practical, like looking for jobs." *** Day and Night The television flickers shut. I lay my weary body onto the bare floor. Stare out into the dusk. You know you're in trouble when you switch on the telly and watch Coronation Street, then switch over and start watching Eastenders. Another day, another night. The twenty-eighth year ends. I know within my heart that... at least I am not where I used to be. I hang onto that thought. I have some of that clarity back, although I know it keeps leaving me for long, inexplicable periods of time. Why would you do that, God? *** Don't Leave Home Tonight, this feels as though it is her home. It used to be her home. It isn't any longer. Neither is anywhere el...

At certain times of the day, she feels light headed. She has to sit down: either on the grass, or on the pebbled pavement. When they get back to the house so she can get ready for the second wedding in her extended family, she has to take five minutes of sitting on the carpeted floor and close her eyes and steady the whirring energy at the back of her head. She wonders why. Then realises that perhaps it's concussion. The skin at the base of her skull must have split at the first contact of the ceramic. The pain was instantaneous, unbearable. She heard him slam the front door shut as he left the house in disgust. Her friend was right. If she couldn't come up with another strategy to make him be quiet and get away from her, she would groove in this pattern - again. Repelling a menacing, verbal attack from the old, familiar, paternal, ancestral, unaware, threatening masculine energy with a physical attack on the self... because she deserved it. She sc...