Bibi Lucille
Stories (2/0)
My family are trying to kill me
Dear Diary, They are trying to kill me. I know it. Today, we were sat at dinner and my granddaughter had made a lasagne. I tucked into my food, minding my own business when my daughter Claudia, shoved my chair. And when I say shoved, she damn well kicked the leg expecting it to just collapse beneath me. Fortunately, my guard was already up and I grabbed onto the table with both hands. ‘Oops, sorry! Tripped!’ She just said before continuing back to her seat. The bitch. My family are supposed to love me and yet here I am fighting for my life every day in this damned house. At least I have you. My little black book.
By Bibi Lucille3 years ago in Families
The Chef's Secret
It’s 5am. I roll out from my steel bunkbed and straight into the kitchen. I pour the grey oats into a bucket-like saucepan, followed by pints of sickly milk, watching as it sank into the stew like an english marsh. I closed my eyes. I felt the resistance of the gruel as I pushed the wooden spoon through it in slow circles, my mind’s eye picturing it as being some sort of sweet potato and butternut squash soup with just hints of coriander and wafts of tabasco. Every morning, I take these few minutes of peace to just stand here and dream of my life before, outside these prison walls. The money, the fame, the food… Was it better to have it all, however briefly, than to have never had it at all?
By Bibi Lucille3 years ago in Criminal