Tema Frank

“I clung to him, my heart racing. As my hands explored his belly, touched his nipples, brushed his Adam’s apple, I could see the soldier swinging his spade, the body of the young man falling to the ground. I could see Christine’s chemical burns as Miros smelled my skin and kissed my breasts, as he lifted me up and laid me on top of him, all the while looking at me and brushing my unruly, wet hair out of my face. And I thought I was back in the dark, empty corridor in my school, hearing the screams of the people outside, trampling each other and calling for help. I clung to him, as if his body could undo these images, these sounds. If I just held on tight enough, if I loved him fiercely enough, if I dug my knees into the mattress, put my hands on his chest to support myself, if I took him inside me, could I offer him a refuge, even though I hadn’t managed to take Christine and all those other people into my hiding place?”

“I clung to him, my heart racing. As my hands explored his belly, touched his nipples, brushed his Adam’s apple, I could see the soldier swinging his spade, the body of the young man falling to the ground. I could see Christine’s chemical burns as Miros smelled my skin and kissed my breasts, as he lifted me up and laid me on top of him, all the while looking at me and brushing my unruly, wet hair out of my face. And I thought I was back in the dark, empty corridor in my school, hearing the screams of the people outside, trampling each other and calling for help. I clung to him, as if his body could undo these images, these sounds. If I just held on tight enough, if I loved him fiercely enough, if I dug my knees into the mattress, put my hands on his chest to support myself, if I took him inside me, could I offer him a refuge, even though I hadn’t managed to take Christine and all those other people into my hiding place?”