HeartlessBy C. Lee McKenzie
October 6, 1871
Journal Entry
With a swath of pale pink paint across her cheekbones, her face glowed. Her eyes glistened in the light of my workroom. Even now, as I write this, I roll my head to ease the strain across my shoulders. Months of intense labor and still the final touches remain undone.
I can’t believe I began a new project tonight as well. I didn’t plan to, but I couldn’t resist. She was unexpectedly accessible and a perfect match for my needs. So, in spite of being exhausted, I had to clean the knife before returning it to the tool chest, then wash every surface until all of the dark fluids drained into the hole at the center of the sloped floor. I hadn’t needed the metal pot tonight, so at least I didn’t have that to manage.
My last chore was
