As a post woman for the Royal Mail Ursula Slovensky knew a thing or two about love letters. Mostly because she opened every single one that passed her way. A pathologically inhibited woman with no romance of her own, she’d developed the kind of obsessive-compulsive habits one would expect in such a type. Arranging her …
The red lights make me dizzy. I tell that to Deiter each morning as I watch him smoke. The smoke also makes me dizzy, but this I keep to myself. We sit together on the canal and never say more than a few words. Deiter seldom talks much. I like to listen. But not to …
Or How to escape the tiny dark path “You were born bad. It just took me to bring it to the light.” He whispered into my ear. I stared at our reflection in the mirror, my shoulders sharp like a frame as he fucked me from behind. I looked bad, my mascara ran down my …
I opened the bathroom door and found my mother sitting on the toilet with a book on her lap. “You’ve been in here an hour and I need to change my tampon,” I said. I tried to make my voice civilized but it sounded angry and annoyed, like my father’s. “Jesus, I’ll get toxic …
