The Battle of my Hands.
Long before the little voice in my head had a name he was already playing games with me.
Left alone in a small flat, sick, cold, ALONE, the mind can wander…a knife left sitting on the table…2 hours later, this text had spurted out from the darkest little voice realms of my head.
I’m having a battle with my evil hand. It’s going for the knife sitting on the table in front of me, reaching out determinedly. The fingers stretch as far as they can without the bones bursting out of the skin. My new housemate Bob has left it on the table. Careless. Real careless. I’m a pretty easy going guy to live with. I only have one rule: DO NOT LEAVE ANY KNIVES LYING AROUND. Continue reading