skip to Main Content

A cry for help.

Photo copyright: Gah Learner
Photo copyright: Gah Learner

Broadmoor.

Brother
I need your help, how was I to know the guy had a thin skull.
I saw the watch he was wearing and believed that it was mine.
I hit him hard, and he fell, then they say I hit him again and again.
I got the watch.

I rest watching the moon, the staff here say that it makes me worse.
I know that there are three guys sitting waiting for me, like garden gnomes.
I will die if you don’t help, they are waiting for me, from across the divide.

Footnote:
Full of cold and wide awake at 5am, what can you do, but write.

Michael Humphris.

This Post Has 26 Comments
  1. He completely lacks insight into his own strength and into what is wrong or right, he must be severely ill, mentally. I admire your skill to write with a cold, and such a good story, too. When I’m sick, I’m just miserable and can’t think beyond that. Get well soon.

    1. You are right; he is in Broadmoor Hospital, a hospital for the mentally ill who are also considered a major threat to public safety… Writing helps distract me from being miserable, but I am also taking plenty of medication for my cold. Otherwise there would be no writing for me.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Back To Top