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Christopher Kloeble
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ice for a while, and was
about to say good-bye to
her reflection, when she
noticed an animal climbing
from a hole in the ice near
the opposite shore. It
walked on two legs, had
two arms, most of its hair
on its head, and otherwise,
as far as she could tell from
that distance, it was naked.
It had to be an animal. No
man could endure this cold,
not without clothing.
It vanished behind a curtain
of dark-green fir boughs.
As fast as she could, Anni
slid back toward the dock,
ignoring the soft crackling
beneath her, and as soon
as she’d reached the shore,
ran back toward the village.
Mina had lost her father to
a rabid fox, and Carpenter
Huber had been attacked by
awolfonce inbroaddaylight.
(Thus his odd posture while
sitting—he had to balance
himself on his remaining
buttock, the left one.) Anni
ran. But even that seemed
much too slow to escape
some beast that might catch
her scent, come lunging
after her, sink its teeth into
her flesh—she ranranran.
Her heart dictated the pace,
her knees burned, her feet
ached, the wind drew tears
from her eyes and pumped
frigid air through her body.
When Anni reached the
somebodies’ house, she
slammed the door behind
her. Its creaking wasn’t
oppressive, as usual—it was
the sweetest sound in the
world. She sank to the floor
and wept into her hands,
without knowing why. I’ll
never go back there, she
swore to herself. Never leave