Trafika Europe 11 - Swiss Delights

Mariella Mehr

a joyless victory; silvia did not die. silvia lies in wait for her body, sees it thrown over the edge of the bed like a forgotten piece of clothes, vomits again and again as if the inside needed to be turned outside, to make visible in one last monstrous effort what has happened to the little girl’s body. but there is no one there. the room, empty except for a few ugly objects, offers no protection, no pity. spots, caused by the humidity, spook along the white walls, turn into threatening faces, dance the dance of death for silvia. people stand around the white bed, later, much later, hours, days, weeks? silvia does not know. silvia swallows medication, they shoot her full of strong sedatives. and still silvia remains caught in a blue whirlpool of unspeakable cold. her existence is reduced to the bare functions of the tortured body, she feels nothing any more. she does not want to feel any more. to feel means to die.

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