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The Lonely Woman

From: Rose Josephine Elliott

Date: 19/01/2015

My dearest granddaughter Jen, I write to you in great frustration.

Since you've left and departed to god knows where after dropping, sorry, ‘leaving college’ things have fallen to an abrupt fray. And please don't take my frustration as a means of halting your much needed vacation; it’s only that I believe things would be better if my little Jen were around to help.

Matters with the family have gotten worse, they moved me out to a more secluded home (at least I've still got little Roofus). They think it would be best for me to be out here, out in the country where I grew up as a child, but to be honest they couldn't be more wrong. The town that’s close by is desolate, all of the shops except for the bakery have closed, even the bakery barely functions as it once did; they make the occasional loaf of bread and send it by my home, at least their old fashion hospitality has held up.

The night is a typical humid slug of air, fitting climate for Australia. The crickets sound like a rapidly buzzing radiator. The grass is yellow and starch dry, patches of lion hair as I like to call it.

I hope to hear from you soon Jen.

Love Grandma Elliot.

From: Rose Josephine Elliott

Date: 23/01/2015

I write this letter in regards to my power, which was cut at an unknown time.

Now I understand that you people at “Grendon Burg Powers” have many clients whose power supply you must maintain, as is your duty, but it'd be greatly appreciated if you came to inquire on my predicament and perhaps fix the problem. I'm sure it’s nothing. My guess is that it’s merely a faulty wire; the power-lines connecting to my roof give off an awful buzz.

Please note that it is quite a travel to get out here, so just a word of warning. And try not to cross the old railroad, most people forget.

Thank you, Rose J. Elliott

From: Rose Josephine Elliott

Date: 04/02/2015

Jen, my darling, how have been? It’s been a while since your Gran decided to stretch her frail fingers and write you another letter. I had a dream last night of meeting you at the airport, oh and it brought back so many lovely memories.

Things haven't gotten much better since we last connected. The power supply has been off for quite some many days. I've written the power company and all that, but they just don’t seem to listen, either that or the letters keep getting lost, which would also explain why I haven’t received another letter from you.

Anyway, the local bakery man is really nice; if I were a bit younger I’d probably consider... well I suppose you don't need to know of your grandmas business.

Roofus has not stopped barking, he gets worse when it goes dark. He’s just getting a bit senile; He’s not the only one. The other night I could hear the T.V. turn on downstairs.  It’s all just one milestone of tragedies after the other.

Haven’t received much from the family, a bundle of dollar notes at the beginning of last month was about all.

Hope you're okay. Enjoy it while you're young.

Pie Face Man

Love,
Grandma Elliot

***

Miss Elliot, Diary entry, 3rd of the 6th 2015

They care little of me, they dispose of me, put me out here. I can hear things at night, and I know they’re things that are there. They are the tall shadows burnt into my eyes from the bright lights of the flickering nightmare television.

I can’t handle his stretching arms that caress my moist skin basted with sweat. He lifts my sheets at night and signs his song; I lay still and try to imagine him gone. Imagine I’m gone.

He was once on the television, after it switched on when the power was still out, Nightmare television.

“Here comes the Mister Pie Face man...” the limerick comes from the electric blue screen.

“I wonder what he’ll do..?” said by the voice of a child.

That horrid thing peels away his pastry face and the limerick, oh that ghastly limerick.

What lay behind his pastry face are the many organs that slide as though masses of phlegm being swallowed and swished around.

I can not live with Him anymore.

Goodbye.

***

From: Rose Joseph Elliot

Date: 16/02/2015

This is the eleventh letter I've sent in regards to my power supply.

Now the lights in my house still don’t function, but my television does. Now I understand that you have many clients, but all I ask is a mere maintenance check. Now I’m not one to use my age to get my way, but you are denying the rights of an elderly woman to have the basic necessities to live.

You should be thankful that I have people nearby who are willing to help me get by, or else you’d have dead woman on your hands. Imagine that, and not to mention the family members at hand to sue.

Please get out here soon.

Don't go by the old railroad. You should be thankful that I still have the decency to give you that piece of advice.

thank you, Miss J. Elliot

From: Rose Joseph Elliott

Date: 20/02/2015

My dearest Granddaughter Jen, things have been consistently worse, nothing seems to be going my way anymore. Not like the days when my skin was smooth and my bones weren't brittle.

The local Bakery man has moved on, says that he’s going to try out modelling in the city, such a strange leap in occupations. I said my good bye, and he left me a cake and twenty loaves of bread. Such a sweet boy, lucky he was here or else I wouldn't of got this far.

The family has started sending me money again, what they think substitutes for a spoken word or letter.

If I didn't know any better, I'd guess they were trying to get rid of me.

The T.V. is back on again, minus a few channels. It’s funny how none of the other stuff works though, such as the lights and the fridge.

The television seems broken though, it just turns on at night, wakes me up every time. I hate having to go to sleep when it’s dark; you always think there’s a shadow in the corner of your eye.

I've felt like a scared little child lately, no woman my age should feel like that.

Oh well, I hope to hear from you soon.

Love Grandma Elliot.

From: Rose Josephine Elliott

Date: 25/02/2015

To family, I want to get out of here.

There was a man who visited me, unwontedly, around one o’clock every morning. It’s usually dark out so I can’t see his face. He went on through my mail and he looks through my windows.

I left my front door open accidentally before going to sleep one night, and I heard footsteps later that night around the living room.

Since then he hasn't showed up out the front of my house, but one night I heard footsteps in the attic. I think he’s living in my roof. I feel scared.

Please come get me, I don't want to live here anymore.

From: Rose Josephine

Elliott Date: 25/02/2015

I have a plan dear Jen, to get out of this wretched house, I just sent a letter to the family and told them someone is stalking me. I lied, I know it’s dirty and naughty, but I need to get my way.

Finally, the answer to my prayers is composed by the beggar. I feel like I can finally leave this place, so many bad childhood experiences are being washed away like ink on a plate swiped away by a gush of water. The thought of finally leaving is getting me excited, Roofus too. He still hasn't stopped barking.

I’d like to hear from you soon, love Grandma Elliot.

From: Rose Josephine Elliott

Date: 15/03/2015

Jen, I think they actually left me. I haven't heard from them. They don't even care.

When will I hear from you?

Love Grandma Elliot.

From: Rose Josephine Elliott

Date: 15/04/2015

Jen, I thought you wanted some space, that’s why I waited so long between letters.

Jen you're breaking my heart, I cried today, and not for the first time. Now I know I shouldn't put the guilt trip on you like that, but I just want to hear from you again.

It hurts me so much.

Don’t.

I killed Roofus, Jen, I even killed Roofus.

You

I was starving.

Stay

I see people Jen.

Up

The Television talks to me.

To

Why did you have to die Jen? I miss you so much.

Late!

Love,
Grandma Elliot

Miss Elliot, Diary entre, 17th of the 4th 2015

Jen was my only Granddaughter, daughter to my only son. There will be no more Elliot’s in the world. Not if my bitch of a daughter-in-law takes her non fertile cunt and...

Oh god, I've never spoken like that... I haven't been sleeping well lately.

Forgive me.

Miss Elliot, Diary entre, 18th of the 4th 2015

He came and visited me last night, on the T.V., the Pie Face Man. He danced on the television screen, his arms were long and his smile was wide. Oh Jen, if only you were there.

Miss Elliot, Dairy entre, 24th of the 4th 2015

“Eat my happy face,”

I would eat you Pie Face Man, I haven't eaten in one, two... I don't even know how long it’s been. I just write random dates.

“Don't stay up too late now,"

I won’t stay up to late. It’s the televisions fault it turns on and wakes me up.

“Here comes the Mister Pie Face Man, coming to tickle,”'''''

I hope no one stays up too late.

“I wonder what he'll end up doing; just make sure you keep on chewing,”'''''

Help me, hear me.

***

{Miss Elliot’s house was found isolated, all alone in a field, a house amongst the dried tufts of grass}

{Miss Elliot was found clutching the unplugged television}

{Miss Elliot had died of starvation}

{Miss Elliot with eyes open}

***

Miss Elliot, Dairy entre, 7th of the 5th 2015

Why don't you turn on the television?

I want you to see her too.



Written by SAMMY's JAMMY WAMMY
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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