unfound

The day has unravelled in all sorts of vastly unappealing ways. On the hottest day of heatwave, in the attic of the purple-trimmed work abode, the air conditioning has given out. A slow, heavy weakness. I feel other parts of me give way under it. I can't look at my actual work so I look at myself over the past few days and rip apart every choice I've made until I have nothing left. Whatever I do, it is not right or best for anyone.


excuse me ladies © Laura Kicey

Then the District Attorney calls. The darling robber had told his lawyer he was going to plead guilty. Until this morning before the judge, he decided to change his mind. Now the trial is to be thrown together by Wednesday. How strong will this be if it happens at all? My anger is refreshed as though it is brand new. Everything that comes at me today, I feel like I am going to crumple. Or maybe melt.

Edit: I spoke to Kevin, one of the guys who was robbed with me (pictured above, the night of the incident) and he said that the DA told him that she wanted he and I *specifically* to appear as we were the best witnesses, though Diana said she could come, he said he probably couldn't. I am having this rather dark fear that the DA is confusing Diana and I because Diana was *completely* certain and IDed him in the photos right off the bat... and that I actually never IDed him correctly. Spinning. The plot is to thin out the number of witnesses that can make it to trial. However, with 12 total witnesses (we being four of them)... fingers crossed.


honeymoon © Laura Kicey

Nerve made a strange reappearance today. One of the designers contacted me and said they were recommended to me by the 'former photo editor' and asked to use a photo of mine for a special fiction issue... accompanying a story abou the future of marriage. It may have a print edition and they want to negotiate a fee for usage in that as well. I'm trying to get excited, but I feel not unlike the bride in the photo they chose.