By Marcelo Medone
It’s dark, and I’m afraid. My bare feet are sticking out from under the blanket. I don’t have the strength to bend over and arrange it. I’ve been locked up and lying in this bed for a whole week.
He comes again and stays for a few moments observing everything. He grabs the blanket and he fixes it: my feet are less cold now.
Again that look that terrifies me. I don’t know what to tell him.
But it is he who speaks to me.
“Julie, my dear, do you need something?”
I’m still speechless. If only I remembered his name…
Really very good – and, oddly, still just about an open ending, if she’d actually been locked in a cellar by a particularly kind and caring abductor (I don’t actually see that as the situation)