SHOT
I’m an idiotic wooden puppet dangling between heaven and earth – boys below, girls behind. I am a hollow, wooden doll, with a wooden face. Must be, since I don’t remember the blow. I only remember the hand which struck: “I forbid it! I forbid you to go to her! If I find out you were there…” It guffaws in me with bestial laughter while I grab my coat and tie my red scarf over the white one. Flat-snouted buses carry me through the night. Unflinchingly, ’til I see stars, to my dying breath. I will remember their lessons: can’t wait ’til morning. Have to do it right now. Get there, warn her.
She should have been surprised but she wasn’t. Neither by the late hour nor by my hospital-like appearance, in a gown and white headscarf. I sat down on the sofa and began, panting like Lenka’s moth
