Tag Archives: cut

Blackout

They kicked the front door in, screaming for me to get down.

Only when one of the officers turned me over and pulled my arms behind my back, only then, with my face shoved into the pillow, did I feel the massive headache.

They were pulling me out of our studio and when we were on the stairs I finally woke up enough to turn and shout for Reana to wait, that I would come back, that it must all be some mistake. In about the same moment an officer said that it was no mistake while I realized that Reana wasn’t in the room.

I’m trying to reconstruct it all, I tried in those four hours of questioning, and I’m still trying. But there’s nothing to reconstruct. But there’s nothing in my mind to reconstruct. We were on the couch, watching TV and waiting for the fireworks shows. She was cuddled up against my chest and had a blanket wrapped over her feet. We were speaking the countdown together with the announcer on TV. There were the first fireworks. We raised our champagne glasses – and then all is just blank. Or maybe rather black. It’s a black curtain that’s blocking me from my own memories.

I didn’t drink any alcohol before midnight. I don’t even remember drinking the champagne, but they still found a blood alcohol level of 0.2 % – in my body, not in hers. Continue reading

Bessie

Trigger warning: self-harm; harm to animals.


She was two months old when I got her. And just four months when he took her.

Soft, long, golden fur. A tongue that was always hanging out and dripping with saliva. She loved to lick my face. She loved to cuddle up to me at night. And I loved all that about her.

I got her because I was lonely and lost in a way that no human companion wants to fix. But from the day I picked her up I didn’t feel alone anymore. I have two dogs now, one sweeter than the other, but I still thank Bessie for saving me.

I lost her the fourth of April. We were out of the city so that she could run without leash and Bessie loved running after the frisbee and I took the chance to practice a few commands with her.

“Fetch!”

She ran.

“Heel!”

She came.

“Sit!”

Bessie rolled down onto the floor with her belly up and what seemed like a grin on her face.

That belly rub was the last time that I ever touched her. Continue reading

Five Days. Five Nights.

Noah J. was so kind to narrate this story. You can listen and read along:

This story was also translated to Polish.


The first four days Lachlan had been excited. The fifth day, that Friday that he came back from primary school with dirt on his knees, he was not excited. He was euphoric.

I was in my office, writing the final formulaic words of another research proposal.

“Daaad!”

“Hey!”

“Dad! Dad! Dad!”

“Oh wow, someone is happy. Enjoyed school?”

“School is awesome!”

“That’s great!”

“And I have loads of friends!”

“Of course you do.”

“Look!”

He stretched his small, dirty hand towards me.

“You cut yourself?”

“No.”

“That looks like a cut.”

“It’s a talesman.” Continue reading