personal blog: simon

why do I bother? but I have decided to close the shop up and finish all the orders this week. no new jobs to fulfill. I finally sign the purchasing offer. SOLD. five years and what do I have to show for it?

five years. the previous owner needed an immediate disposal. a living space and a workshop beneath it, and I needed a place to stay. it was supposed to be a temporary fix, but after three heartbreaks, might as well move on.

the tainted subdues tones in the shop with vibrant images and posters crowding the side wall. yet, in this light everything looks plain and boring. an exhibition of my artistry, which at times I’m not even proud of because there is no one to share the pride with.

the incessive silence again. my fingertip slides across the screen and I join the noise inside my head. the memories.

like prongs, Kevin’s thin fingers stabbed my side. I gathered to catch my cell and managed to dim the screen, stashing it into my pocket without raising suspicion.

“hi.” somewhat dejected, but Kevin’s effort to lift my spirit remained unrattled. “do you want another?” shaking an empty bottle of Labatt Blue.


compliant. that is I. compliant and not raising suspicion. every text. every phone number. screened and removed meticulously. no evidence left of my past life and I knew Kevin was getting tired of it. I was getting tired of hiding. I think I might have mentioned Gemma in passing. it was a slip of a tongue and even that explanation ended up being half a lie.

but inside… inside… I am tearing into scraps, into oblivion until there is nothing left of me. annihilated.

read more: ← sunday 20:29sunday 23:17 →

© simon whittle — second act