Sunday, 21 June 2009

Underwear on the floor

Underwear on the floor. A heavy smell of cigarettes and sweat suffocate the room. You fucked me for the last time. “I’m trying to remember our first kiss and I just feel grouse. Maybe it’s from the fried eggs and the sour milk we had for breakfast. The last one. So tell me… when you press our rewind button what do you see? Wait, don’t ! I’ll tell you, you moron! You made me feel special, you brought me the goddamn moon, you never forgot my birthday for 5 years. We made love for thousands of times, we found name for our kids, I learned how to pee in front of you. I hate you for this, now I hate you more than ever. I have become the hysterical bitch you would never marry, I have become the frustrated woman that cries after fucking cuz she can’t get a decent orgasm. I would have put up with your nose picking, with your stupid boring fishing trips, with your nagging mother that always complained about my food, even with the black, thick hair on your ass. But you didn’t let me. I remember the first time you looked disgusted at me, after a jealousy scene. I made you sick and you made me feel sorry for myself, that kind of pity one has for the crippled beggars on the street. I’m standing naked in front of you knowing that even a cow would excite you more than I do. I’ll burn all the stuff you gave me because they remind me of my road to failure, of my “trip” from water lilies to brown shit. I had dreams, now I just want to take my pills and sleep so I can forget about the fact that I didn’t shave my legs for more than two weeks. I’m done with this and I want so much to cry. I won’t do it in front of you, I still have a shadow of pride. “ That’s what I told him and he was gone. And now the only thing left between us is the slamming of the door. And I cry.

by The Squirrel

The Assassination

It was a fresh late afternoon. The pink sky was gradually turning into a purple thick layer and the late birds were making their final round in the air. She was standing on the grassy lake shore surrounded by nothing but a couple of chestnut trees. The water of the lake was still, so was her body. No sign of human presence could be sensed around. And it was only he who was coming to the place where she was standing. He was obviously making his evening walk with the dog – a yellow spaniel with a black collar. He noticed her from the very beginning and seemed decided to approach her. Although he did not accelerate his pace it was clear that he was eager to draw near her. Their eyes met and as if a sparkle drilled the tranquil air. Her brown sight and his blue one somehow fused in the air and the color combination between their eyes resembled the color of a dead man’s lips. Floating towards each other, they were enchanted by the ease of the moment. Her cheeks were blooming with liveliness tempting him to swallow every single shade of that blossom with his smile. At this moment she was the sacred monument and he was the pilgrim coming to direct his immutable attention to the object of his admiration. Several steps separated them and the moment for their first conversation was growing with the speed of the advancing evening. Still, no one was willing to start and break the delightful effect of the solid silence. The excitement was almost unbearable and time appeared inexistent.

Suddenly, the yellow spaniel pulled its elastic leash and landed on the top of a nothing expecting partridge collecting seeds under the last beams of the already hidden sun. The bird could not react on time to fly away. The dog abruptly tore the left wing of the partridge. With no time to waste, it also tore the head and the warm blood of the bird splashed like a tiny red fountain over the man’s clothes. The initial shock in the eyes of the owner spread through his face and his hands started frantically wiping the blood, thus smearing it even more. For some quick half a minute he was hopelessly trying to squeeze the red liquid out of his blouse while the now yellow-red dog was proudly finishing the dissection. The man harshly pulled the leash and walked away from the shore. He did not look at her again.

The night spread out over the lake.

by The Trout