Sense Crime
After
Oh! Oh, what happened? I'm scared, I'm so scared! It wasn't John, there is that much. It wasn't John, but oh, my John! He fought them for me, but only when he thought...oh, and I kissed him for the first and last time...the shirts, the children...
No, no, that's not the right order at all! Calm down, need to get things in order, make some sense of it all. Okay.
First: I was folding shirts. John came in and looked at me, and I smiled at him. I shouldn't have smiled! But what difference would it have made? At least he got that one smile, to remember me by.
Second: The Grammaton forces burst in. Someone had noticed I was feeling and reported me. But it wasn't John, because-
Third: John fought them, he fought them all, my brave, good, strong, brave John!
Then they told him I was guilty. His face...I think a part of him knew that I was feeling, and so to have it revealed like this was like a betrayal of secret things. He looked so shocked that I had failed him. My slowly growing feelings were shattered away, I never knew feeling could be so painful. How I loved him in that moment! Then they took me away- no, not quite, first the kiss. I had stolen kisses in the night, when he was fast asleep without dreaming, and would never know it. I had longed for that proper kiss for so long, that to have to snatch it in those last precious seconds was heartbreaking. I told him to remember me.
I want him to remember me, even if it is as the wife who failed him, the Sense Offender who may already have ruined his reputation. I wanted him to remember the kiss, and perhaps the smile, and that I was the mother of his children.
Then I was hauled off. The children saw, but probably they don't care either way. The difference was that I cared. I cared about seeing them there, knowing I would never see them again. They didn't let me say goodbye. They wouldn't understand the need for it.
I'm for incineration in the morning. This dark cell frightens me, presses in on me. John may even be there at the furnace, to witness it, but he won't care, he can't care. I will not cry, I will not beg for mercy. He will remember me as being cold and rational to the end. Sense Crime...it makes no sense to me. That loving your husband should be a crime...
He thought it was a mistake, he didn't know of my crimes then, when he fought the troops invading out home! Would you have fought for me, John, if you had known I was guilty? It doesn't matter, my love. All that matters is that I love you, whether you can love me or not. Goodbye John.
Remember me..!
After
Oh! Oh, what happened? I'm scared, I'm so scared! It wasn't John, there is that much. It wasn't John, but oh, my John! He fought them for me, but only when he thought...oh, and I kissed him for the first and last time...the shirts, the children...
No, no, that's not the right order at all! Calm down, need to get things in order, make some sense of it all. Okay.
First: I was folding shirts. John came in and looked at me, and I smiled at him. I shouldn't have smiled! But what difference would it have made? At least he got that one smile, to remember me by.
Second: The Grammaton forces burst in. Someone had noticed I was feeling and reported me. But it wasn't John, because-
Third: John fought them, he fought them all, my brave, good, strong, brave John!
Then they told him I was guilty. His face...I think a part of him knew that I was feeling, and so to have it revealed like this was like a betrayal of secret things. He looked so shocked that I had failed him. My slowly growing feelings were shattered away, I never knew feeling could be so painful. How I loved him in that moment! Then they took me away- no, not quite, first the kiss. I had stolen kisses in the night, when he was fast asleep without dreaming, and would never know it. I had longed for that proper kiss for so long, that to have to snatch it in those last precious seconds was heartbreaking. I told him to remember me.
I want him to remember me, even if it is as the wife who failed him, the Sense Offender who may already have ruined his reputation. I wanted him to remember the kiss, and perhaps the smile, and that I was the mother of his children.
Then I was hauled off. The children saw, but probably they don't care either way. The difference was that I cared. I cared about seeing them there, knowing I would never see them again. They didn't let me say goodbye. They wouldn't understand the need for it.
I'm for incineration in the morning. This dark cell frightens me, presses in on me. John may even be there at the furnace, to witness it, but he won't care, he can't care. I will not cry, I will not beg for mercy. He will remember me as being cold and rational to the end. Sense Crime...it makes no sense to me. That loving your husband should be a crime...
He thought it was a mistake, he didn't know of my crimes then, when he fought the troops invading out home! Would you have fought for me, John, if you had known I was guilty? It doesn't matter, my love. All that matters is that I love you, whether you can love me or not. Goodbye John.
Remember me..!
