It was a different chill though, invigorating, full of energy, and a promise of escape. The floors chill had nothing on the bitter cold of the cup. As the hooded figure gestured to the drink, the man looked at what was in the cup. He approached the table and looked over it, the full silver item was a straight edge razor, unfolding it he seen the blade was a shiny clean silver with a sharp edge, so the bowl must of been shaving cream. The young man let the hope swell up in him and asked in a soft weak voice “How long?” The old man looked at him with a smile still gleaming on his face. The hooded man still sat in front of him. The young man demanded, emotion starting to bare. The old man watched in wonder as the younger man showed his emotions, tears were starting to form on the young mans cheek. The young man waits in wonder, thoughts running wild through his mind.
I wouldn’t mind having something like that now. Expecting shortly after consumption, his mind would begin to wander on it’s own, things he could of never thought of rushing into his mind. The young man thought to himself, how could a cup posses the ability to make me feel this way. He played with the thought of trying to speak, but he knew last time he tried it failed and drove him into a even deeper feeling of captivity. The hooded man sat just outside of everything the young man could reach, even body fully extended. The young man asked letting his head hang low. The old mans smile vanished and he tilted his head. Figuring no answers will come from standing here any longer, and feeling disgusted due to his urine soaked clothes he headed for the exit to of his old prison. In the cold weather, I can remember the odd neighbour would come round to our back door with a bucket.
Pushed to the limits of longing for death, to have the only option one he could not come to end by, starvation and dehydration, not when they always provided a fix for the most primal of needs. It works (worked) find until I made this mistake, not sure if something broke, the machine rotates well, the knee pedals seem to work properly but the roller does not have the needed compression. I have a Model 75 that I believe is in working order I would like to find a good home for. Very good first-hand experience here. Do not throw away Good Knight mats after use. It sounds good but in reality it use to take ages for the clothes to dry this way. Cod and chips (frequently served with mushy peas) is for many people the only way cod is ever prepared and eaten. Maybe it was poison, his want for life lingered, but a need for a way was more of a need. His chamber of stone, with one small entry way with nothing blocking him from exit aside the shackle and chain holding him to the wall that he never even had the energy to attempt to free himself of.
It could of been a few hours, days, weeks, who knows it could of even been years. Over the years we have had narrowboats and we had woodburning pot bellied stoves and I loved to smell the smoke of the burning wood, different kinds of wood gave off different kinds of smoke. Central Heating, hot water from a tap, electric lighting would have been luxury to any victorian household. We would use all sorts of household items in their construction not just blankets. On the trail, though, all those items add up to additional weight and bulk. A spring loaded feeder closes off access to bird seed as the weight of the squirrel pull it closed. Memories that wernt his, knowledge that wasnt his to access. He hadn’t seen anything in who knows how long his first glimpse wasnt gonna be swindled away by dry, unadjusted eyes if he could help it. Now he was full of hope that it was truly the end, but it wasnt poison they had given him, if it was, it was slow working. Hope was the last thing the young man wanted at this time, but what he most needed. The hooded man approached him again, crouching in front of him, in a deep but soft voice he spoke.