The pain. It felt as if something was boring deeper and deeper into my chest with every move. So much blood. I think by now there was more coming from my mouth than from the hole in my chest. The bubbling had turned into a kind of hoarse snorting. I was an animal, and this was my voice. I crawled into the earth, tunnelled a hole for myself with my head. Then I was gone.

He kissed me once. We were at the field with Schwitters and the others, and I was lying on my back on the mayor’s tombstone when he suddenly knelt over me and grinned. ‘What are you doing, dickhead?’ I asked, and the next thing I knew he’d pressed his great damp mouth onto mine. I’ll smash his face in, I thought, I’ll break something and keep on smashing him in the face until he stops moving. But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything; I just lay there with his tongue in my mouth and couldn’t move. Then he got up and fetched a beer. I acted like it was all just a stupid joke, but I could have wept.

Voices. Calling, shouting. I raised my head and glanced back at the road. There were at least three or four cars standing there. In the blue light the ground appeared to be steaming. Police officers were all talking at the same time. I recognized two of them. A fireman rushed, crouching, from his vehicle to the damaged car and back again. Kath was standing by the ambulance, a blanket around her shoulders, talking to a man. Tom was inside, lying on the stretcher. I recognized him by his trainers. Blue with yellow soles. The two of them bathed in light. There are no angels. The light is there for everyone. It was still raining. But the strange thing was that the rain was falling very slowly. Silvery cords from the blackness, as if in slow motion. Someone called my name. I didn’t move. What were they to me? I was an animal in the earth. Tom, said the rain on my face. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. Tom. His blue-­and-­yellow shoes were mine once. Everything he owned had once belonged to me. I don’t need it any more. Their torches flicker through the darkness. The fox appears right in front of me. He stretches his front paws stiffly away from him, then lies down beside me with his muzzle against my face. Just stay there, don’t move, he whispers. They won’t find us.

Linda Aberius

I

I can’t say why, but I’m quite sure: it’s a mountain in the south. And right at the top there’s a hotel. It’s a bright, open building. There’s a clear view on all sides. The cloud layer is spread out below us, infinitely white and wide. It’s winter. We’ve been here a while already (a few days?), and I’m surrounded by good people. But not a single face . . .