The Words of a Widow [Journal of Amelia Owens]

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Amelia pulls out the last box, lugging it towards her office table and dropping it on there with a depressed thud. As the thin wooden legs of the dreary little table wobble and creak she opens each leaf of the box itself. Looking down at her old pink typewriter she lets out a sigh. A sigh that blows a layer of dust around.

Pushing her hair behind her ears she pulls the pink metal contraption from the dusty box and places it on the table. She smiles as a forefinger moves to press on the 'E' key, wobbling it a bit before she takes a seat.
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I don't know how long this paper and ink has been in here. But I don't want to use anything else.

I feel as though I am ready to write again though I am not sure to what purpose. For now there might be some rambling, writing of my thoughts. Why now I'm not too sure. Well I am sure but it's embarrassing to think let alone write on paper. My clients do it though so I suppose there's no reason I can't.

My parents got me on the bus alright and I even survived the first few days without an incident. I made a friend. At least I hope he's a friend. I suppose it's hard to be friends with someone you keep trying to have sex with.

He reminds me of Eli. His names Ellis though and he has far more issues than Eli ever did. No that isn't true. He just has different problems.

My paragraphs aren't even paragraphs anymore. I just noticed that. My sentences are too varied as well. But then I suppose no one but me will read this so what does it really matter? Not like I'm a novelist.

I haven't put many pictures up since I finished painting. By I have his frame up, the one that used to have our wedding picture in it. I can't put that one up though. I'm not ready for that.

Maybe that one of him in the park. He jumped up on that picket fence so fast that day I swear he nearly lost his balls.
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Letting out a momentary laugh Amelia doesn't feel as though the worlds just one nasty big black hole. Strange considering the place she's at. But the moment comes and goes and she's left sitting there. Her forefinger sitting on the loose 'E' key and her eyes staring at the old paper that she doesn't want to remove.

October 18, 2012 at 11:01 am
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