Archive for the ‘Как дела?’ Category

Wave of futility

sweeps over me,

cold breath on my stiff neck.

Half-life, too much, and never enough…

Pain, so much pain…

… creeping death.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Sometime during the TV commercials,

somewhere in between ads for life insurance, sports betting and pantyliners,

she decided to slit her wrists.

Driven to madness.

Society story.

The end.

 

©SvetkaSamizdat

 

Are you ready?

It’s a long way up

and we’re going all the way to the top!

 

I wake up.

A door clangs shut.

I come too.

One voice tells me that I’m in a prison cell,

another says: welcome to hell.

Laughter and footsteps get fainter.

And I am on my own.

My eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the dim, yet harsh, light. A bare light bulb, hanging, reflecting on gray drabness.

I’m on a bed (if you can call it that). Four walls cramming in upon me. A bucket on the floor. A tray next to that.

It is what it is.

And that is that.

In pain, I slowly uncoil and get up. I stretch my back as best I can. It’s cold. I’m instantly thankful to be wearing a tracksuit top, the kind that zips up to cover one’s neck. I don’t remember putting it on but instantly I consider it my best friend.

I reach for the tray: bread and water. I smile thinly.

I try not to think about my prospects.

I lie back down on the bed. The mattress is skeletal and the base below hard. I pull up the blanket. And then I realize that, for now, I’m all alone. And I can’t hear any sound beyond my own breathing, and the thoughts in my head.

Peace, of sorts.

Imperfect peace, in an imperfect place.

For now it will suffice.

Such is life.