Sunday, 29 May 2011

sötétség

At 1 a.m. we see a blonde woman on the road. She’s hysterical, shouting at the cars. “Was her jacket blue?” I don’t know, I say,  maybe it was white, or pale blue, perhaps. Oh. Silence in the car. We drive home, I grab the dog and we get into the house.

Fifteen minutes later my mother arrives with the blonde woman. Her clothes are wet and the left side of her face is bruised , purple and blue. They know each other from Swedish class, with one week left of the school year the blonde woman disappeared.

She’s sitting downstairs now, trying to reach her boyfriend – the very same person who painted her pretty face blue – he doesn’t answer the phone.

5 comments:

Satu said...

Nämä on taas näitä, joihin ei uskalla kommentoida suuntaan tai toiseen...

Kai tällä oli (edes jollain tavalla) onnellinen loppu?

Zsuzsi said...

Satu, lopusta ei vielä tiedetä yhtään mitään. Nämä on tosiaan monimutkasia juttuja, suututtaa niin kamalasti mutta onhan kaikilla kuitenkin oikeus tehdä omat päätöksensä.

knickknacks said...

This is for real?! She really should be calling the police!

Zsuzsi said...

It's for real. The problem is that it's very easy for us to tell her what to do, but she might have her reasons (good or not) not to follow our advice.

Memphis Steve said...

I used to try to save people. Then one day I realized that I had never even been able to save myself. So now all I do is listen and let the people talk while they try to decide what they want to do with their own lives. Maybe one day I'll learn something helpful to us both?