Translated by Wendy Cross

I am waiting… I am waiting.I have always been waiting.My eyes are closed, as they have always been.My hands float in front of my face, and even if I can't see them, I know exactly what shape they are.My legs are floating too, but beneath me. They are waving about in the box.I can hear sounds, but they are muffled. Words, sometimes. Occasionally something taps gently on the box, as if to make me react, but I prefer not to react. I don't know who I am dealing with.The only voice I can hear clearly is that of Professor Runyard. It is calm, soft and full of wisdom. He talks to me softly, an

© Short Édition - All Rights Reserved

You might also like…

Short Fiction
Short Fiction

Macks and the Slippery Sled

Jill No.

"It's snowing, Macks," said Jake to his cat. "Come sit by the fire. Snooze on your mat. Just look out the window. It's too cold to play. Let's ride my sled on a warmer day." But Macks was too frisky ... [+]

Short Fiction