The house always seemed safer to me than the street.
A silly illusion, considering how many times things had happened inside those walls that made you want to turn yourself inside out. But all the same: outside — cameras, flashlights, random eyes. Inside — at least understandable monsters.
Today, this difference has been erased.
I closed the bedroom door behind me and just leaned my back against it for a second. The dress was pulled down, the corset pressing against her ribs. I could feel every bone in my body, as if my body had become transparent.
The silence hummed in my ears.
Slowly, almost ritually, I began to undress. I took off my shoes — my feet shivering from contact with the cold floor. She unzipped her back, and the fabric of her graphite dress slid down like armor.
I staye
