Sound of Gas
That day we were all busy: the burial, the inheritance; however in
each home where one dies a suddenly grown child stands at the top
of the stairs and looks around awkwardly as if he has to restore
something; no one of course paid attention to him and only the strange
woman smiled at him as she placed the flowers inside the mysterious
shadow where perhaps we had forever remained and I remembered
the room with the echo of gas when they hurriedly brought me in
a child bloodied by the wheels of the car, the same woman had come in
almost unnoticed and then my eyes fell on the window where the curtains
were in attention as if they also had to endure this.
Manolis Aligizakis 