Double-Crossed by Seventh Day Adventists.

I didn't feel you worked
hard enough for me.

I can imagine you saying
that in your head.

At least if you had voiced
it, I could have argued.

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Finding it hard, this evening, to string together the kinds of subtle sentences that I have become renowned for. Those soft little words that fall like petals from the flower of my wisdom. The silken sheets of my wit that brush across your skin and leave you feeling lighter in some perfect way. The droplets of hope that moisten your parched lips when the rest of the world has become desert-dry. Oh, they are hard to come by some nights.

I have apologies to make. To you, Freckle, I am sorry. Don't stay angry at me, I couldn't take it if you did. But I have to be truthful here, on these hallowed pages, for if I can't do that here then I can't do it anywhere. And we can't have that. I appreciate your honesty, too. Thank you. And to any of you other users and abusers who felt slighted by my sullen words, I offer you a sorry also. Keep on reading and I'll keep on writing.

But I don't know that I will continue for much longer tonight. I have been having haunting dreams; dreams that seem so real that I wake up in pools of sweat and with tears on my cheeks. I can tell you here and now that I have never felt more helpless than when I'm drifting off to sleep, and the realisation that I can't control the images in my head hits me. It is like knowing you're about to be hit by a train, but you're the one who walked to the tracks and tied yourself down. I am so tired all the time. If you could come to me in my sleep and just hold me for a while, Freckle, I would be in your debt forever.

How many more derivative shows can we copy from overseas television networks?