Monday, 12th November
Quotation that sums up my day:
These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves. From each of them goes out its own voice… and just as the touch of a button on our set will fill the room with music, so by taking down one of these volumes and opening it, one can call into range the voice of a man far distant in time and space, and hear him speaking to us, mind to mind, heart to heart. ~Gilbert High
Paragraph for 12th November (word count at 11,693 – So far behind now. Hopefully I can catch up after 23rd November.
‘Emma curled up on her bed, with her head under the pillow. The news was so shocking it filled every space of her mind, body and soul until she wanted to scream and shout at the unfairness of it all. She had killed someone, and it wasn’t just any old someone, but the Rt Hon Sir Digby Hart, MP, the Minister for Justice. Once, she had asked Bruce if he had ever killed anyone when on active service. He had stared at a point just over her shoulder and the man behind his eyes had momentarily been replaced by a number, an identity tag and a rifle. “Don’t ever ask me that, Emma,” he had said, with a robotic shake of his head. The moment had passed within just a few seconds, but Emma had known that the man she loved had killed another, perhaps many times. It was just circumstance, the same as this thing she had done to the Justice Minister was just circumstance. She sat up in bed: already the guilt and and unpalatable truth was being erased by ‘circumstance’.
© Annie Ireson