The days were vacant / edged with sounds of silent passing // three days of counting minutes / all in desperation / the space around him / like water in a glass / filled with Alma’s sobs and painful sighs
“Will anything I say make a difference?”
He / empty of outpour apologies
The question was spontaneous, he delivered it without any thought and yet, could not remember where this had been learned // also because he could not think of anything else to say // he felt being pushed away // was questioning his actions, feeling insecure and convinced that he heard that question from someone // the moment would not allow him to take credit for anything original / he felt as the product of someone else’s thought process / a recorder that voices someone retort
“Go away”
She responded in a whisper / she stood directly between the window and the boy // seeing her back against the bright outside light / made her silhouette dark gray //
“I want to come to you and touch you and hold you / to smell your hair, to taste your skin”
He said.
“I feel vulnerable not being next to you”
She shrugged her shoulder and began to once again sob /
“I wanted to get pregnant”
She said,
“and now I am repulsed by the idea / I believe that it is impossible for you to live in conformity with a code of ethics // you hold yourself vindicated by your justifications / for you, there is no moral judge”
She turned her face and behind the tears that filled and covered her eyes her soul deep behind these shields stared at him with both fear and hatred and a need / it was at that moment that he understood the evil he was
Short Stories
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