Naomi Samuel
Stories (2)
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Rouge
Entry 1 - June 2nd, 1997 I felt taken care of, but it always felt lonely. I loved my husband with all my being, yet it seems his thoughts are always transfixed onto his art, as if there can only be one masterpiece in his life. As I write and write, it feels as though this journal knows more of me than anyone else, the pages openly receiving my desires, my sorrows, and the woman in me that nobody desires to invest in, to uncover. The textured black cover like the gatekeeper to my heart, each thick, unwavering page a vessel for my very blood and soul to be poured out into.
By Naomi Samuel5 years ago in Criminal
Rouge
Entry 1 - June 2nd, 1997 I felt taken care of, but it always felt lonely. I loved my husband with all my being, yet it seems his thoughts are always transfixed onto his art, as if there can only be one masterpiece in his life. As I write and write, it feels as though this journal knows more of me than anyone else, the pages openly receiving my desires, my sorrows, and the woman in me that nobody desires to invest in, to uncover. The textured black cover like the gatekeeper to my heart, each thick, unwavering page a vessel for my very blood and soul to be poured out into.
By Naomi Samuel5 years ago in Criminal
