@ALittleWindow
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Joined January 2026
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Hello,
I am a page dedicated to quotes of books I love.
I am follower of Christ. I am a wife, mom, and veteran. I write books. I read books. I have a BA in Philosophy.
Please enjoy the words that have created me.
I will not hear anymore from women demanding men be more understanding, or can't understand.
Literally, fuck off.
Rough transcript of Patrick’s call to 911:
911 Dispatcher: Explain how she tried to commit suicide. (multiple voices are heard) Where is she now? Stay awake. How old is she?
Patrick Clancy: 31-33.
Dispatcher: Is she awake?
Patrick: Yes.
Dispatcher: Is she breathing?
Patrick: Yeah. Lindsay, what did you do to your neck? She’s talking.
Dispatcher: When did this happen?
Patrick: In the last half hour.
Dispatcher: How far did she fall?
Patrick: 20 feet. (multiple voices are heard)
Dispatcher: Is she responding normally?
Patrick: A little bit. Wake up!
Dispatcher: What part of the body was injured?
Patrick: Her neck. … She’s breathing. Lindsay, look at me! Look at me!
Dispatcher: Are there weapons?
Patrick: I don’t see any. Where are the kids? (multiple voices are heard)
Dispatch: Do not move her.
Patrick: Open your eyes. Can someone – OK, Lindsay, look at me. Open your eyes.
Dispatcher: I’m going to tell you how to stop the bleeding.
Patrick: It’s not bleeding … open wounds. She’s in the backyard.
Dispatcher: Is there something on her neck? A knife or something? Can you put pressure on it?
Patrick: No. (multiple voices are heard)
Patrick: Lindsay, wake up. (moaning is heard)
Dispatcher: Put pressure on the cut.
Patrick: Lindsay, look at me. Say my name. She’s conscious.
Dispatcher: Don’t move her. Tell her to be still. (Whimpering is heard in the background, as well as sirens in the distance.)
Dispatcher: I’m going to stay on the line with you. Is there a fence?
Patrick: Right here, right here! … I need you to stay, and I’ll go check on my kids.
Patrick: Hello? (footsteps are heard) Guys? Guys? Oh, no! (yelling is heard) Oh, no! (more yelling) Wake up! (Patrick is heard screaming).
Dispatcher: What is he screaming about?
Patrick: (Crying, screaming and gasping) OH, MY GOD! (more screaming)
Dispatcher: Hello? What’s going on?
Patrick: Basement! Basement! OH, MY GOD!
Dispatcher: Hello? hello?
Patrick: (Screaming. Screaming, Screaming.) AHHHHH, SHE KILLED THE KIDS!!!
OH, MY GOD! (Screaming. Screaming. Screaming. Screaming.)
Dispatcher: “Oh, shit.”
The first gun my husband and I built, probably a decade plus old now. We rattlecanned it with clementine bags on pieces of cardboard in the backyard of his attic apartment house. 🥹
I knew, probably earlier, that I was his. Whatever happened after that, well, it’s just a story we’ll tell our kids when they are older.
