Thursday, Mar. 18, 2004 - 14:40

Hello there, gentle Reader.

I can still see him... Simon. I’m in bed and I know he’s out on the balcony, in the dark, by my window. I can hear him breathing, I can feel his hot, hateful eyes staring through the glass, through the blinds and into 'me', burning me with his rage and hate. And then he comes through the window – not like a ghost, no, it’s more like he’s made from some kind of ooze, which allows him to push through the fly-wire screen… yet he remains cohesive, completely human and ‘Simon-looking' the entire time he does this trick.

He’s then standing at the foot of my bed. I’m frozen … unable to move, unable to scream. He’s sitting on my chest, pinning me down. He has said nothing. He just stares with eyes that are one moment cold and dead and without emotion, pity or expression, and then they flash suddenly and become twin pools of black hate.

”I shoulda’ killed you when I had the chance,” he spits at me. “You shoulda’ died then, you fucking cunt,” he sneers. And then the punches start coming, and then things grow black… I can hear his voice, it sounds far away and he says something like: ”… No more second chances for you… this time you stay dead…”

This last sentence I recall especially well. It has stuck in my head, never to fade.

Well… Hmmm… on that cheery note, gentle Reader, I think I shall bid you adieu for now. Hope that Life is treating you and yours kindly. Until we catch up and speak again, please be well and happy.

<< - >>

Hit Me! & Clix Me!

All original images & written content are
Copyright Jay Kerin

< ? Screen Dream # >