To write for exactly, and only, ten minutes every day, as exercise. Helped by daily prompts by “M“. Today I wrote from 14:02 to 14:12 with the prompt …..
The Haunting of Harold Hemmings
Waking up again. Another morning, another day. The initial trained burst of optimism, “Today will be good; I will have a good day” is soon gone; evaporated quicker than the purest alcohol, the alcohol Harold has eschewed now for so many years.
Thoughts. The thoughts come.
He lets one or two in, I can handle these, I can think about this, surely? After all this time. And briefly he feels he can. By the time his feet are on the floor, however, he is licking over these painful thoughts as one might flick one’s tongue against a rotten tooth; yes the pain is still there.
In the shower it is all he can think of. “Why? Why? Why?” a million times the same questions, the same hard rock of the same answers, the same circle.
Harold Hemmings cannot recall the taste of morning tea without fresh tears in it. By the time he leaves the house he is on the floor. His head is stretching to hold all these circular never-ending miseries in them. Time will help, yet his haunted head continues to ache and burst at the seams as he never can seem to lay these things to rest. He never can exorcise the disappointments, the humiliations, the pain and the despair.
Finally at the end of the day – a good day, his brain was only on fire for most of it – he takes his pills and he can sleep. The haunting nightmares will not begin again until morning.
My other writings are on Dead Deer Blog.
Prompted 
[…] Prompted – https://promptedforten.wordpress.com/2018/10/31/194/ […]
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For the life of me I cant find a button to follow you folk???
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Thanks very much – I think (not sure!) it sort of appears in the far bottom right of screen somehow? I also think you’ve managed to find it now? Thanks again.
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Sorry I couldn’t write this time
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It doesn’t matter! It’s only for fun and only for when you get a chance! Don’t worry, little Writeycorn! X
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[…] Stop it. Stop the weighty ball of uncomfortable thought. Is it too late? It is there, it is too big, it doesn’t even fit in the head any longer. How to stop it? Think other thoughts, better yet; think no thoughts. Is that possible? Push it out, slowly slowly, close the boxes. The tentacles thrash out of the lids, try harder. The lids are closed, the wriggling appendages are captured for now, pull the duvet up over the haunted head. […]
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[…] down his bleak face. Finally it was done. A minor triumph when you find yourself tethered to this haunted head. But it had taken him all day to achieve this simple task; there was no satisfaction in a job done, […]
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