Angst. Ich habe Angst. She remember learning in a sun-ridden class, the windows closed, the teacher perambulating and the small chair. She covered her notebook. The teacher looked at her.
Angst. Ich habe Angst. She remember learning in a sun-ridden class, the windows closed, the teacher perambulating and the small chair. She covered her notebook. The teacher looked at her.
What does it takes to leave, disappear, never come back? A turn of the head? I am not talking when you are forced to leave, but of the resolution of packing everything, close the door and say goodbye.
Here, now, today, she is a recluse, she does not want company, she stares in silence.
Are you listening to what I am saying? Please, please.
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The house burnt to the ground. She stares at the remnants, coiled, grieving. One day, one day.
The sky, an ode in grey, walking under the trees, she kicks the stones, turn around and cannot find her keys. She curses in silent, phones her husband. No response. She goes to a hotel, dreams she is free and cries a little. In the morning, she tries again, a sour voice answers. Startled, she goes to his office. Nobody had seen him since last August. The locksmith takes his time to come. Once inside, she goes through his papers. Nothing. She buys a small box and she buries it in the garden with a plaque in his name. Every year she puts flowers.