top of page

My Confession by Steffi Mountain

The abuse started subtly; breaking the spine, dog-earing the corners. Nothing terrible. But then I’d leave them in the rain, the pages curling and sticking together, the ink slightly bleeding. Spilt tea added disfigurement, so they became my coasters. Then came the peeling; like removing the plastic from a new screen, I’d strip the cover of its thin coating, leaving it coarse and bare. It was...satisfying.

A friend then told me that I had changed the way she read books, that she started to break the spines and dog-ear pages.

I no longer torture them. I probably owe an apology.



All work remains copyright of the owner. No reproduction of this work is permitted without written permission from the author detailed here. If you wish to contact the author, please get in touch with Tortive Theatre.

116 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page