Youssef Sleiman–Untitled


The pain surprised her. She had thought it would hurt less this time. 

Looking down, a tear fell from her cheek and disappeared into the pool of warm blood. She knew she would have to find somewhere to wash. The borrowed red dress, doing its job perfectly to the aghast high school talent show audience, didn’t hide anything from her partner onstage, Denis Friebt. He held the gun – and a face awash with defeat, horror and guilt.

“You can’t make me shoot you onstage. They’re going to know about it,” Denis said, wearing a face full of defiance, horror and fear. “I’ll get expelled.” Continue reading

Advertisements