Trafika Europe 5 - Slovenian Interlude

buttery light. And the angel waited on the corridor all the while.

The walls were lined with doctors’ yearbook pictures. Now and then, a nurse scuffed in from the wards.

Hours passed. She woke up in the intensive care, her stomach cut to her sternum. Thou art fair, thou art fair, my body’s female likeness wrapped up in nothingness’ palm.

And the angel leaned above her and whispered into her ear: Adonai, Elohim, Tsebaoth. Come back to the cave-night.


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