Nothing

Published here

---

The metro reeks of sweat and wet dog.

Her expression is empty.

It always is. Holding that old crutch of hers, she walks. She walks slowly, and looks miserable too. But that isn’t hard with those exposed, burnt and broken legs of hers.

“A cripple has nothing to lose,” her father says so, before burning her. He says it, before he breaks her ankle and knee. First her right leg, then the left. 

She stretches out a hand, hovering in front of her, like a small cloud over a desert; white and calm, waiting to dissolve into the blue of space. She doesn’t look at the faces. People are easily annoyed. No eye contact. That’s the rule. 

There is nothing to see. She tells herself. Although… There is something worth looking at, maybe even staring at.

the lion roars (2)

PART 1 - LIQUID PEACE

PART 2

PATIENT PAPER

 

The police station was accommodated in an old building, a school from the 19th century.

It took me three hours to get anywhere near Benny.

They had me fill out seven forms, both sides, all identical. The policeman in charge ripped two forms apart, and I had to start again. “Hand slipped.” His comment slapped my ears. This was nothing but mile high harassment. I knew it. The policeman knew it, and I tried not to get too angry.

the lion roars (1)

Part 2 - PATIENT PAPER

PART 1

LIQUID PEACE

The gutter dripped and the raindrops rapped hard on the kitchen window. My eyes were already open. The bedsheets felt cold and damp. The shutters in the living room rattled with the wind gusts.  I’ve been staring at the dark ceiling for nearly three hours. I sat up. Sleep was busy somewhere else.

Another rotten night.

record keeper

WHY I WRITE – a Chuck Wendig prompt

The simple answer is: I fell in love with stories.

It hit me one day, without warning.

thoughts on shuffle

There are places, which make me stop and think for a while.

A lot of these places are in Japan… I can’t say it’s just the small little streets and corners. Sometimes it’s a crowded place in Kyoto, or a nearly empty little street in Shibuya, a playground in Minami Nagareyama, a JR ferry in Hiroshima… They differ from each other so greatly, that I wonder if they are even on the same planet – which obviously they are.
Maybe it is a simple panic attack, or derealization experience I had…
Only, if it wasn’t for that deja-vu… 

I’ll be more precise.

The feeling they give me, makes me stop. Suddenly I have not enough breath in my lungs and my feet stretch to touch the core of the planet. A weird kind of buzzing fills the space between my ears…

I’ve been here before, haven’t I?

“That’s a lot of blood!”

Alec’s remark falls from my shoulder.

“Stop motivating the bleeding,” I tell him. “Be more helpful. Here, hold this. Stop shaking. Just hold it, with two fingers. Ok?” I guide his fingers around the sereffine. Luckily he has surgical gloves on.

We’re on the right track. I’m nearly done, only the skin suture left to be done. I did a rather good job. Nothing fancy, still enough left to do a patch-up.

I take the sereffine back,  and sling the suture material around it. Tightening it once, twice, just to be sure a third time too. The sereffine comes off. “There. See? No more blood.” I state and finish the work.

desire flashbacks

Why is it, that suddenly everything starts to gravitate towards the edge?
Those jagged edges of the you-shaped hole chew away my reality.

I let my fingers, thoughts and heart brush over it. Just to be sure, it is there. I’m not imagining it. Not imagining you.

Sharp. I cut myself remembering you. Missing you… Returning to the same spot. Hurting again.

Sometimes it’s a cracking sound, sometimes a wet ripping… Sometimes the gut twisting silence I’m forced to listen to.

ink on ash

 

The school yard was going to be a graveyard.

Preparations took two whole days, and  a couple of men had been hired to empty the library.

I watched them slowly pile up manuals, maps and books. Considering the size of that heap, it was going to be an impressing fire. The library must be empty by now… I sat in my classroom, staring out of the window, observing the coming and going. Men throwing books across the yard, smoking, drinking alcohol.