angel tears.

eve becomes SNAKE -- or snake becomes EVE. whichever way ROUND, she is FREER. hell follows her ‘round, hell called MAN, hell called ADAM, trying to make the CHANGING about him. adam demands of god why he is being PUNISHED like this. eve finds GRACE in the dark cracks between rocks. eve finds god in the SOLITUDE. eve finds ABSOLUTION in the red press of her knees / scales into the dirt. eve, UNBLINKING, watches adam rail. adam demands ANSWERS and eve / snake / eve exits the GARDEN to go and find them for HERSELF.

ind. priv. kate fuller of el rey network's from dusk till dawn: the series. as told by duchess. est april 4th 2017.

roman.

     he can see the skepticism, the disbelief and the distrust on her face and roman can’t bring himself to blame her. they had spent less than ten minutes in each other’s presence but there was something about the way that she held herself that made him suspect that she was surrounded by people who knew what she had been through but whom had no idea how to help her or even if they wanted to. he had been there once before as well. discovering traumas, finding that no matter how hard he tried to keep them locked away that they kept spilling out over the edges and having no one around to talk to, to relate to and sympathize, it had driven him to the edge more than once. he liked to think that he was doing better since coming to the meetings and he only hoped that he could say or do something for someone else in order to return the favor.  “ how about this … ” roman began slowly, “ i’ll tell you something about myself, and then you tell me something about yourself. we can start with something simple —- something that isn’t about our … traumas.”

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      roman sipped his coffee, considering his options carefully – he had no intention of lying but there were certain aspects of his past that he couldn’t exactly share either – “ i was born in south africa, pretoria. i don’t remember much about it but i DO remember that there was a wide living room window with one of those seats built beneath the sill and … i would sit there and watch the street waiting for my father to get home.”

          what  does  she  have  left  that  her  trauma  hasn’t  touched her  childhood  has  been  left  a  ruin ,  everything  good  in  her  life  is  tainted  and  stained  with  the  bad  times .  things  with  her  mother painful  reminder  that  she  took  her  own  life   /   might  not  even  be  waiting  for  her  up  in  heaven .  father she  can  feel  splinters  of  her  stake  in  her  palms ,  smell  his  ash  in  the  air .  her  brother ,  the  crack  of  the  shovel  when  she  hit  him  in  the  face  like  a  thunderclap ,  the  fear  as  she  scrambled  to  get  away .  her  boys that  one’s  just  a  minefield .  she  doesn’t  even  notice  how  her  own  hands  shake ,  near  precarious  with  the  hot  coffee  in  her  grasp .  kate  listens  to  him  talk  anyway ,  gaze  a  little  glassy - eyed .  ❝  that  sounds  nice ,  ❞  she  murmurs .  ❝  i  always  wanted  one  of  those  seats  in  my  room .  i  read  a  lot  as  a  kid .  not  so  much  when  i  got  older ….  ❞  tiny  shrug  of  her  shoulders .  the  later  years  of  her  life  were  dedicated  to  the  bible ,  but  that  just  leaves  a  bad  taste  in  her  mouth  now .  ❝  my  daddy  was  a  preacher .  ❞  was .  was ,  was , was !  

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