Tag Archives: Flavour of Spite

The Flavour of Spite – Twenty

Posted on April 30, 2015 by Helen

Francine is remembering something, looking at his broken, dead body at her feet. She’s trying to feel something other than revulsion at this form. There is no pity, but beneath it all, there are memories, tugging at her. People like … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Nineteen

Posted on April 23, 2015 by Helen

Dearest Violet is in my kitchen, slicing and dicing vegetables for our soup.  She has chosen a recipe for chicken soup, and the meat is already finely sliced and lightly fried, and it now sits on blotting paper to the … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Eighteen

Posted on April 16, 2015 by Helen

He returns later, about an hour later, to do the session. He apologises for his forgetfulness as though he has left his lover waiting. Perhaps he thinks he has, but it is crueller still to have given that brief time … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Seventeen

Posted on April 9, 2015 by Helen

It is working, she can tell. She sees it in his trembling lips, his gentle touch as he comes to her for their next session. The tears in his eyes, the genuine distress he feels in the moment before he … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Sixteen

Posted on April 2, 2015 by Helen

  Dear Violet asked me for a journal to write in, and some loose leaves of paper for poems and drawings. It seemed she has a creative spirit beyond just her culinary skill and I was happy to oblige. A … Continue reading →

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Flavour of Spite – Fifteen

Posted on March 26, 2015 by Helen

And you just standing on the stair Your finger raised soft to your lips Showed full to me my true despair No murmur of my terror slips I’m silenced by your fingertips She has too much time on her hands. … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Twelve

Posted on March 5, 2015 by Helen

She has been awake for some time now. It seems that she has ‘done well’ with something. Her captor, who insists she calls her host, says she performed well. As a result he has loosened her ties somewhat, or perhaps … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Eleven

Posted on February 26, 2015 by Helen

She responded so well, I am certain I am right. She dissociates so naturally it proves she is born for this. I struggled so much more than her, even given my relative youth, when Imogen began my trials. But she … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Ten

Posted on February 19, 2015 by Helen

The yellow brick road is too bright too bright. The sky has a strange, doubled yellow glow, hurting the eyes. The rainbow is there, like she thought she heard someone say, and that’s calmer to look at. If she could … Continue reading →

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The Flavour of Spite – Nine

Posted on February 12, 2015 by Helen

  I placed the electrodes on either side of her perfectly skinned temples. I could see she was starting to realise what I mean by the journey, though she could not know it all yet, not really. Perhaps she has … Continue reading →

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