Grist for the mill

 

Fresh off the rebound from another visit to the palace of justice. Reeling. Thinking. Grinding.

Judgement will be given at the next date. Which is December. We will know if the Trump bomb is going to explode by then. I’ll be forty by then.

Facebook memories showed me the crime scene this morning, wondered if I wanted to celebrate the memory.

It’s all just grist for the mill.

Rank-tasting gorge-rising grist for the motherfucking mill.

You’ll get it once the mill is done.

Note to the defence (who have been some of my most thorough readers over the last two years – my stats love you):

Hi defence,

Yep, I was taking notes. I’ve been taking notes the whole time. I’m also reading the transcripts. And all the acts. I know exactly what’s going on. 

This is a fascinating process, once you can get past the pain and trauma. And, as I’m sure you know from reading all of my other posts, I’m an expert at getting past pain and trauma and have a PhD in writing about it. 

I really hope you’ll come back to see it from my side when I am able to write about it. Free formative feedback from a critically-trained thinker who’s watched you very closely from both front and back? Priceless. 

Dr Angela Williams