Confessions Of An English Opium-eater 소설 & 이야기

I was kidnapped, used, trapped—and yet the thought of leaving too soon left an odd emptiness in my chest. Hours slipped by in restless thoughts. I must have drifted somewhere between waking and sleeping because a sound jerked me upright—the door opening without a knock. Matteo filled the frame again, shirt sleeves rolled up, expression hard. He didn’t step inside fully. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small white pill, and tossed it toward the bed. It landed lightly near my feet, rolling once before stopping. “Take it,” He said, voice flat but carrying that unmistakable edge of command.

" Says pablo, giving me a copy of the CCTV footage in front of Bella's apartment, it's lucky that pablo had someone install the security cameras. Just in case something bad happens to Bella the way it does now, and it turns out it really does, too, he has the camera in her apartment so he doesn't know what she gave him. But he had also checked directly into Bella's apartment and found a plate of compressed contents, leaving only bones and traces of chili cheese and vegetable gravy. From what he saw, pablo was able to verify that miss miller had actually been poisoned by the woman who had fed her food, perhaps thinking that she was Lord vilante's errand boy so she would receive it without a s

Notes of deep, velvety satin mixed with cracked pepper and smoke. “My affinity allows me to speak to the dead…amongst other things. Got any ghosts you want to talk to, Ophelia? Any corpses hidden in that closet of yours?” I could feel my face turning green. “No, that’s okay.” Sterling clicked his teeth and shook his head, “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll even give you a discount.” I needed a change of subject before I really was sick. Everything was moving so fast. I needed a moment to catch up, to wrap my head around everything. Despite how my stomach rumbled, the food now tasted like ash. I just couldn’t bring myself to eat it.

I had rehearsed this particular scenario over and over again and I knew it would not fail. Before I could say anything, Alessandro opened his mouth to speak. “You ought to show my wife respect, Tonero.” He began. “If you think you’re going to scare her, you need to have a rethink. What sort of woman kills seven men, blows up a cartel, and is actively trying to become a mafia lord? A crazy one and she’s standing right there.” That was all it took for everyone seated at the table to accord me some sense of respect. I checked my watch as I sat on the empty seat next to Alessandro. There was a large shipment coming in from the south today for my father, opium. It was the new rave on the streets

I don't bother changing out of the sweat pants and my polo shirt that looks as wrinkled as any cloth that has sat in the dryer for weeks. Late dumping always happened to David when he did not mind what he ate. He used to be disciplined with food, only a few nights of exception when he joined me because I was the Sweet tooth amongst both of us. There were days of exception, when he binged because he was over thinking. His meds were always close by, but it seems he no longer stocks his drawers with meds any longer.

I had seen an advertisement of this night gown, it was worth hundreds of dollars. "I wanted to say that my mother was getting better. She can make movements with her hands." I informed him, twirling a few portions of my gown around my pinky finger. "She has-" I started but was interrupted by a profound cough from me. I held my chest, tapping it incessantly in an attempt to stop the humiliating cough. Justin scrunched his face in disgust and it made me realise that I was coughing on him and I had a very terrible morning breath.

"Mo, that shirt is three years old and it has a huge ice cream stain on it! Have you been emptying all the ice cream cartons in the fridge again?" I had enough of his sly remarks about my eating habits! "So, what if I have? Who are you to question what I eat and don't?" I didn't realize that I raised my voice till I saw Vic's hardened face. He strode towards me and said, "why are you making a fuss about such a small thing? If you want to wear that stained shirt, then go ahead, be my guest. But..." I cut him off, "You are embarrassed to see me like this, right? I have seen your friends (I meant girls) in your pilot training academy; they all look so well dressed and pretty."

Anna asked quietly, “Why do you seem to be talking about yourself?” “You’re right, I am. The more beautiful something is, the more poisonous it is. The poison that is him has seeped into my organs, I’m about to die from intoxication soon…” “…” Looking at Jamie staring straight at Wilson, as if he was the only one he could see, Anna was suddenly reminded of herself. To her, what sort of poison was Liam? Opium. Sweet and addictive, hate and love swirling together in a toxic whirlpool, pulling her further and further into its depths, unable to escape even if she wanted to…

Her confession today was different; not the usual petty transgressions of thought, but something deeper, more unsettling. "I… I have been having… impure thoughts, Father," she confessed, her voice barely audible. "Thoughts that shame me. Thoughts of… flesh. Of touch. Of wanting…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushing a deep scarlet visible even in the dim light. Father Michael clenched his fists, the cheap fabric of his cassock rough against his skin.

I'm sure there are plenty of people here with indigestion or heartburn. My voice dripped with scorn. "We've been married for years, asshole. I know what goes on in your head better than you think. Oh, and remind me again. What did you tell your mom when she demanded to know why you were eating instant mac 'n' cheese for lunch? She came straight to me for an explanation." The office door flew open. Imogen walked in wearing a little white dress and white canvas shoes. She looked like the picture of innocence, a clueless student wandering onto the wrong floor.