My Name Is Aletta

“Ne felj!” His slender body arched inward; shoulders stooped as if he were trying to make himself less frightful. Impossible! My teeth chattered in response to his hushed question and attempted assurance. The blood that smeared across his lips and chin, the body of the young girl between us now emitting a thin mist as if her soul were rising from her cooling body. “Meggyilkoltad azt a lanyt.” I croaked out at last. But even in my fear my mind churned to remember the lighting, the smell, the shadow of the place in which I felt certain my life was finally beginning and soon to end.

This House

my love, he prefers the corner of the room, his feet upon the footstool. my sticks they knit and click. he smiles upon the rhythm and frowns upon the faults. the corner of the room is wooden and plain and the footstool a mere iron thing. we sit in silence …

Back to Top

You cannot copy content of this page