Background Information

A little while ago I visited what used to be the Ragged School in Swansea.  It is a strange, haunting, fascinating place full of what I can only describe as 'trace memories.'  The visit affected me deeply and inspired the beginning of a story.  Below is what I've written so far.


Ragged_School5.jpg   I went there; to the Ragged School.  I stay there still though you do not see me.  Once when you came with your fat tears; knowing our cruel history, I stood right next to you and whispered my life; soft and gentle.  You did not want to hear me.   But I felt you shudder, just a little, as your spirit traced the memory and understood.  It’s like that for me now.  And, sometimes when I recall life’s small sweet mysteries and her darkness I remember that moment.  I think that you do too. 

   My brother clings to the walls of his own imprisonment.  They say that he is lost, but I know that he isn’t.  There is a shell; smooth and shiny, that he’s built around his mind; a solid black impenetrable tower of resistance.  But I know the way in. 

  I would start at the beginning; if I could find it.  Perhaps you Ragged_School_Building.jpg know.  Perhaps you can see a beginning and an end when I cannot.  Why is that do you think?  I talk to you as if you were there.  And you are, but I am a shadow and you do not talk back.  No matter.  I will tell you anyway.