Bokelskere.no

Sometimes there is such beauty in awkwardness.

A tiny sliver of gold appeared between shades of gray on the horizon. I stared at the amber band of sunlight, smiling. The sun had returned.

"Maybe you really don't want to die," said Jonas.
"Maybe you just think you deserve to."

Joana spoke often of medicine and her hopes of being a pediatrician. She was always interrupting my drawing to tell me about the tendons in my fingers or my joints. If I so much as sneezed, she would rattle off a list of infectious diseases that would have me in the grave by nightfall.

I planted a seed of hatred in my heart. I swore it would grow to be a massive tree whose roots would strangle them all.

I pictured a rug being lifted and a huge Soviet broom sweeping us under it.