Texto en español en Acomodando palabras: "Encierro"
She walked to the kitchen barefooted, she did not want the old man to hear her; and as she passed by she peeped at him: sprawled on the sofa in front of the TV, his eyes closed, the pipe was clinging from his stinking yellow moustache.
He’s going to take care of you as if you were his own daughter, her mother had told her. And she was right.
But he will never take me into that filthy bedroom, she told to herself. Never.
Already in the kitchen, she turned on the gas of the gas cooker. And towards the entrance door, she stared at him for the last time: he had not even realized.
Once at the sidewalk, she put her shoes on.
Her heart was beating so hard that she could hardly hold the key. She grabbed it with both hands and her bag fell down.
And before she was able to put the key into the keyhole, the old man had already tightened his grip on her hair and was dragging her inside.
Publicado en Heliconia Flash Fiction