We're running out of time, he said.
As if time were the kind of thing you could run out of, as if it were measured into bowls that were handed to us at birth and if we ate too much or too fast or right before jumping into the water then our time would be lost, wasted, already spent.
But time is beyond our finite comprehension. It's endless, it exists outside of us; we cannot run out of it or lose track of it or find a way to hold on to it. Time goes on even when we do not.
We have plenty of time, is what Castle should have said. We have all the time in the world, is what he should have said to me. But he didn't because what he meant tick tock is that our time tick tock is shifting. It's hurtling forward heading in an entirely new direction slamming face-first into something else and
tick
tick
tick
tick
tick
it's almost
time for war
Tag: life reality time castle tahereh-mafi juliette-ferrars unravel-me juliette-chronicles
It's elementary, my dear Winifred.
Miss MaeTag: sherlock-holmes mystery games castle london victorian spiders
This is not one of your fictions where people bleed ink.
Terence Paul WinterTag: fiction castle ink anatomy-of-a-murder
When sleep came, I would dream bad dreams. Not the baby and the big man with a cigarette-lighter dream. Another dream. The castle dream.
A little girl of about six who looks -like me, but isn’t me, is happy as she steps out of the car with her daddy. They enter the castle and go down the steps to the dungeon where people move like shadows in the glow of burning candles. There are carpets and funny pictures on the walls. Some of the people wear hoods and robes. Sometimes they chant in droning voices that make the little girl afraid. There are other children, some of them without any clothes on. There is an altar like the altar in nearby St Mildred’s Church. The children take turns lying on that altar so the people, mostly men, but a few women, can kiss and lick their private parts. The daddy holds the hand of the little girl tightly. She looks up at him and he smiles. The little girl likes going out with her daddy.
I did want to tell Dr Purvis these dreams but I didn’t want her to think I was crazy, and so kept them to myself. The psychiatrist was wiser than I appreciated at the time; sixteen-year-olds imagine they are cleverer than they really are. Dr Purvis knew I had suffered psychological damage as a child, that’s why she kept making a fresh appointment week after week. But I was unable to give her the tools and clues to find out exactly what had happened.
Tag: cooking horror crazy torture victim castle mental-health therapy terror dissociation psychotherapist psychological ritual-abuse sexual-abuse survivor dissociative-identity-disorder multiple-personality-disorder therapist out-of-body derealization dissociative paedophile-ring pedophiles
Everybody is equally weak on the inside, just that some present their ruins as new castles and become kings –
Simona PanovaTag: fear strength present power strong romance fiction weak weakness mystery force self-image play suspense castle gothic ruin queen young-adult powerful pretend nobody mysterious image destroy mask king everyone ghost general ruins inside outside destroyed everybody abandon gothic-romance stronghold fortress freya no-one devastated cardew fort
I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may be amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart, through wearing years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may.
Bram StokerTag: home house dracula castle shadows cold transylvania count-dracula
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