Category: Anna Summers

My father and I have commenced work on our next refuge.

Everything that happened to her afterward – homelessness, then a landlady who drank nothing but kefir and tried to hang herself every March but was rescued by her son – all this adversity she considered happiness, and not a shadow of doubt or despair ever touched her.

‘The Sorrows of Young V.’, it will be called.

And in her dream her husband came to her and said, ‘Thank you, Lida, for burying me.’

In all their life together she didn’t ask her husband these questions, not once.

In a single motion the huge beast leaped across the hall and knocked the killer to the ground.

But his mother, looking younger than herself by twenty years, blossoming, golden-haired, blue-eyed, in love, flew off with her new husband to the place where her first husband’s soul now lived – and no one ever did explain it to either of them.

With time the cabbage plant grew – it developed long sprouts and pale little flowers, and the little girl, when she in her turn got up on her weak skinny legs and began to walk, immediately headed over to the window, swaying, and laughed, pointing at the long, wild shoots of the cabbage-patch mom.

She no longer searched for her mother in mental hospitals and jails, though she kept wearing the earrings, and still does.

He’d weep and forgive, while they froze in a grim foreboding.