Poses for Sleeping
Darkness. Nadia lights a match. The light from the match lights up her face.
Nadia: I was seven and was going downstairs in my knickers with a box of matches. I got to my parents’ bed and saw them sleeping. My mother was a mass of tangled hair with her mouth against the pillow; my father a thin profile facing the ceiling. I watched them for some time until I put a match to the sheets. Then I opened the door with a question mark-shaped key, walked out into the street, which was a big motorway, and sat on some wasteland and watched my house burn. I was annoyed that I was just in my knickers because it was winter and my nipples and navel were turning blue. But I was happy watching the forms of the flames against the television, the curtains, the telephone, the armchairs, mum’s bookcase.
Edited by Entropía, Buenos Aires.