This is a translation of an excerpt of one of my writings. Ines asked me to send her one, so I translated this and decided to share it with you too.
Gracie Gray read the ID card. A piece of paper stuck between two plastic lids. An ash haired woman in the picture Who doesn’t look like you. Who were you anyway? Unfilled blanks on an exam paper, gaps between dots not painted with a pencil. Not to lie, you have stains too. Just like when you scrabble a paper and it leaves marks under the other one. On your knuckles, on the curves of your spine, on the place where your lashes fall. The marks you can’t erase even after you tear the first page apart. The pits will be scraped on the walls of your soul. You’ll be forced to walk in caution so you won’t be infinite in their darkness. Just like the swords wounds spread through warrior women’s body, white shadows fell on a man’s back who were whipped in a square, you’ll be embarrassed by them. Those are your sins. Okay? Well then. But don’t forget, this one is a gamble. It isn’t alike to hiding in a closet to beat your friends. If you whine, If you cheat, You die. May the luck stand by you, phoenix, The girl who’s born from her ashes.
