1994
Butcher
Standing by the entrance to the butcher’s, Maddie can’t take her eyes off Victor. Her braids tight, her nose – a pointed nettle. On her freckled bronze cheeks, a glowing blush.
I watch the soft corners of her lips stretch, as if pulled, her mouth opening slightly, and from within, a laugh breaks free—an escapee (Maddie is a prison). It’s as plump as a balloon. As thin as silk thread. It inflates and bursts like bubble gum.
Continue reading “Maddie is a prison by Tatiana Samokhina”
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