Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons
Laura Sintija ČCerniauskaitėe
her. He still had his coat on. ‘Liudas,’ shewhispered against his iciness. She suddenly understood what it was that had slipped away into the twilight. He saw that she had hit the wall of ice. He felt it, but did nothing. They stood opposite each other in the darkness. She fingered Liudas’ secret. They stood on opposite sides of his coat and held it at the corners as if it were a black flag, wavering for a painful moment. ‘Why don’t you switch on the light?’ he said suddenly, calmly. ‘It seems to have blown.’ Isabel pressed the switch and the light burned their eyes reproachfully. They leaned away from each other and, blinking, their eyes returned to normal. And the dampness between her thighs froze into icy needles, poking painfully at her skin. There was a scream. It sliced Isabel’s throat, flashing like lightning in the darkness over her bed. She woke with a start. The six year old child stood at her bedside gazing down at her. Isabel switched on the wall light and it flashed like a second silent scream; Ilya ran out through the door as if he had been scolded.
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