Black Boxes. Caroline Smailes

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СКАЧАТЬ boom.

      Boom boom boom.

      [voiced: boom boom boom]

      [volume: I high I low]

      My period was due on 22nd March.

       ~How do I know?~

      I remember.

      It was three days before my twenty-third birthday.

      You were still twenty-two.

      For another three months.

      And you hated that I was older than you.

      You said,it isn't right.

       ~Do you remember what you said?~

      You said,the man should be older than the woman.

      You said,my father was older than my mother.

      You said,my grandfather was older than my grandmother.

      You said,that's why I know that we aren't meant to be.

      And you said,that's why we aren't quite right together.

       ~Yes you did!~

       ~I remember your words.~

      You told me that if God had intended for woman to be older than man.

      Then he would have created Eve before Adam.

      You liked that Eve was an appendage.

      An afterthought.

      It fitted.

      It fitted with how you saw women.

      An afterthought sent to lure and corrupt.

      But I was older than you.

      And that's why I didn't quite fit.

      That's why you didn't quite slot into me.

      [sound: a guttural laugh]

      Sue is younger than you.

       ~Of course she is.~

      The tart is always younger.

      Never older.

      But she plays the role of the witch within this twisted tale.

      Let's call her Frau Gothel from now on.

       ~I know that's not right.~

      I know that Frau Gothel should be older than me.

      But this is my narrative.

      And I get to cast the roles.

      [sound: a guttural laugh]

      Sue's six years younger than me.

       ~I remember.~

      When she was eighteen she'd had a baby.

      She'd had Lucy when she was eighteen years old.

       ~I did the maths.~

       ~I used to be clever!~

      It was an easy sum.

      It was an easy analysis.

      You left me for a tart.

       ~Don't you think that tart is a fine word?~

      It's light and sticky and sweet.

      Not really an insult.

      Now slag.

      Slut.

      Whore.

      Witch.

      Now if I called Sue any of those four words.

      Then you could be insulted.

      Then you'd have grounds to be insulted.

      But I haven't.

       ~Or have I?~

      I can't remember.

      [sound: water sloshing]

      Tart.

      Tartish.

       ~Is that an adjective?~

      Tartishly.

       ~Is there such an adverb?~

      A tart.

      Noun: A pie.

      A cake.

      A topless sweet thing that you cover with your sweetness.

      That you ejaculate onto.

      Noun: A prostitute.

      An immoral woman.

      A wanton slag.

      Sue.

      [sound: a guttural laugh]

      I didn't tell you about the countdown.

      The countdown to the date that I expected to be inserting tampons and cradling my cramping stomach.

      Expected.

      That's a strange word.

      It doesn't quite slot into the memory.

      It jars.

      It sticks out.

      You see I didn't expect.

      That's the whole point.

      I didn't expect to see my period.

      I knew.

      I knew that I was pregnant.

       ~Or have I simply manipulated my memory into believing that I knew?~

      [voiced: blink blink]

      [volume: low]

      The countdown to СКАЧАТЬ