SUBJECT // anne oakheart // amarantic florist //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // damp //


    I don''t want to scream. I don''t want to be frozen. I want to wake up and see my husband''s face and hear my son''s voice. I don''t want this dirty little Muurian girl to be shouting at me. I don''t want her filthy hand on me, I don''t want her stench in my nostrils. I don''t want to be running behind her. I don''t want to be chased. I want to be home. I want to apologise to Mr Higgs, it''s not important, I should have listened, I want to smile at Fox when she walks by, I want to close my eyes and let the flowers fill me with each deep breath.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I don''t want any of this to be happening to me.


    I don''t want my arm to hurt or my legs to burn.


    I don''t want to be so horribly tired.


    I don''t want to run.


    I don''t want anything.