Welcome to Flash Fiction Friday and the seventy-second piece in this series. This week’s is a very dark 440-word story by contemporary and historical novelist, non-fiction author, interviewee and spotlightee Dorit Kedar. This story will be podcasted in episode 25 (with two other stories) on Sunday 19th May.
A Clumsy Tale
To kill or to commit suicide – both options were rejected one minute after arising.
Held in strong arms, wallowing in a puddle over which I have no choice but to admit ownership. Naked and wet inside dripping sheets, a drenched blanket, a pillow bearing 100% humidity. I make sure that green traces aren’t penetrating through the pores. It’s a wonder that mildew hasn’t sprouted and taken over, I think to myself.
I don’t dare move. I might have to kill after all. Too bad, there actually was some dialogue, I whisper to myself in sorrow. I analyze the situation and start to imagine different types of immediate deaths, all moral and painless.
Strangulation is out of the question – I have no strength in my hands.
Bleeding to death, theoretically possible – I could reach the cutting knife on the table without much ado, but one cut and he’ll be on his feet.
Rat poison – not my style.
Electrocution… hmmm, quick and available – I can spread both his fingers and put them in the plug but his cable is too short.
I enumerate the options and realize there is no escape from disgrace and humiliation.
Yesterday, things seemed different.
He arrived with a bouquet of white flowers – I like white things.
We talked of reincarnation and nirvana – I support optimism.
He passed his fingers slowly down my back – I encourage intimacy.
He approached the cupboard with a smile. He selected five plates, each made of green glass with a thin line of silver. I did not understand what was happening but I didn’t stop him. He gave me a sharp look and threw and tossed and juggled plates, my plates, in the air.
He ended his little trick – I’m all for amusement.
Thereafter everything went smoothly. Laughter, gentle touches with the tips of the fingers, wide circular caresses, suggestive fumbling of sensitive areas and horizontal love in various positions.
He begins to open his eyes (what a bummer!)
To kill or commit suicide – now is the last chance.
He looks at me, smiles, kisses.
Now he’s awake.
The smile is erased.
He senses the wetness around, jumps from the bed, and for a second wears an expression I’ve only previously seen in Japanese Noh theatre. A silent moment is dire. He thinks of what has transpired. As soon as it came, the scandal expired.
He exclaims: “I am not running away, not afraid, won’t be swayed.”
And to my surprise he watches me with lustful eyes. I am shocked as he dons a smile and winks, “don’t blow me off. Meet me at seven at Charmaine Mok.”
Story translated from Hebrew by Annael Jonas. Thank you, Annael and Dorit.
Dorit Kedar travels around the world, looking for inspirational places to write her books. She was a special education art teacher in the morning and a Religious Studies student in the afternoon – completing her MA degree and researching societies and their beliefs in the 1st millennium in the ancient east, for her thesis.
She then wrote her book “Lilith, the Jewish demoness – 1000 years of borderline personality disorder.”
This was followed by articles and lectures about ancient life, recruiting angels, demons and spirits and about amulets and incantation bowls. Dorit carried on studying Journalism and Museum studies. All this while raising two wonderful daughters and one dog…
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