Locked Lips Tell No Lies – Extract 7

But then I grew restless and impulsive, the quasi-stillness fleeting. I couldn’t be in the same place for too long, not now I’d thought of what I had planned for today. The staying power evaporated: the need to move rose in me, water-marked my arms and legs, my insight for making the right decision drowned. Engorged, distorted courses of thinking carved their way into action.  I flitted up, pooled my papers and pen into a neat reservoir of explanation and walked calmly across the room. I caught a glimpse of yellow at the window, and I looked down at the bright fields of sunflowers which carried a sense of urgency in the intensity of their colour. It was late autumn and the flowers were over six feet tall, still thriving though the weather would soon become cold. To me, it seemed like a sign that strength would be mine until I had done what needed to be done.

Meanwhile, I admit, I was momentarily mesmerised by the enormity of what I was about to do, and I almost felt happy for the first time in eight months. I basked in the warmth of the emotion, then drew away from the window, by promising myself that I’d soon be out on the road by the fields, and I think that’s what made me walk a little faster, think that bit quicker.



Amber R Walker, Hull, Creative Writer, Bookmaker, Lover of art

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