|
the russian cow
killer combing his mother's hair
i'm surrounded by squalor, there are noises everywhere, lovers,
feuds, words, fragments of songs, wind, rain, heifer whines, babies
crying(might be lunatics or seagulls), cars passing, never stopping, not here, drunken
brawls, wood, glass and what not, some of it real, most of it fear....
there's a knock on my door, a bang really, another one, and
i know it's the russian cow killer, and i know i'll let him in, eventually...
he's looking grim, his vicious reptile eyes are scanning my
body, we're sitting on the bed, not talking, we never talk, sometimes the
russian cow killer has these little monologues, mostly about his mother, but
i'm not listening, i'm playing oasis songs in my head and dreaming of
mothering liam; the russian cow killer is caressing my body, well actually it's
something between hitting and caressing.
there's no blood stains on him, neither on his clothes nor
on his hands, nonetheless this man has killed two hundred cows today, and
they're all crying in my head, but i can't even take care of myself, let alone
save two hundred cows, six days a week....
"you need a haircut and new clothes" is what he
says before ripping my clothes off, we shag carelessly, hopelessly, lovelessly;
we push, pull, stroke, hit, punch, bite, lick, shove, poke, pinch, knead, rub...all
the time i'm looking at liam on my wall, looking cocky and proud, swaggering
onstage with a stella in his left hand, oblivious to any pain, or so it
seems...
when i come, i look at Morrissey ,he's hanging right beside
my pillow, not quite comforting me, the smug cunt seems to scoff at my sad, little
room and the sad, little situation i'm in, and rightly so...
Zae Smekens points out that this story isn't autobiographical.
The excessive use of commas are a trademark, as are the oasis and morrissey references.
She uses neither capitals nor paragraphs.
She is 23,and has published a few stories so far. Most people seemed to be disgusted by them.
E-mail Zae Smekens
Return to Table of Contents
|