The Journal
She grabs her journal from the coffee table and heads for the sanctuary of her room. She trips on his shoes so often left in the hallway, she falls hard to the ground. Her journal flies wingless for the first time falling open on a page of her life that I’ll never understand. Body aches, body aches.
So safety sealed or not the pills go down for the sake of sanity. His, hers and theirs. She sinks into the lounge, palms up, eye lids fluttering, she feels nothing. And so it’s now as real as the days are long as black as the nights are dark. The smoke rises, the smoke rises.
She opens one eye on the world looking for a different picture, but all she sees is her journal. Flying wingless for the first time landing open on a page of her life I’ll never understand.
Written by: Samantha Johnson
