The Conditional Hours [8], [9], [10]
The Conditional Hours [8]
The book of this hour would be empty of birdsong, full of the tramp tramp of boots.
The Conditional Hours [9]
The book of this hour would contain a dreadful scene for which there has been no trigger warning. You will not be able to read what you are reading. You will not be able to stop. The scene will be awfully familiar. You have imagined this scene many times. Or experienced it. Perhaps both. You are no longer sure, so clearly do you feel this scene on your skin as plastic wrap, smell its stench so unpleasant it is not unpleasant, so garish it feels illuminated as with neon. You will try to close the book of this hour. But you cannot.
The Conditional Hours [10]
The book of this hour would be difficult to remember. Pages will turn but your mind will seem to be elsewhere. You will have to turn back and start again. You will put the book down and forget what has happened. You will not have used a bookmark nor turned a corner of the page. Have you read this before? You will not be sure. The whole day will seem odd and the hour will accordion. You will wonder if you are losing your shit. And if you lose your shit, who will you be?
