XLIX | Something Unreasonable

If sins could be forgiven,
no one will get hurt.

I can’t

exactly how I lost my little finger,

I know

I committed a serious sin—
maybe even a crime.

Why else

were the police involved?
And IMH?

Why else

would my loving parents

look at me

with such fear?

Why did they
send me there?

Why does everyone
leave me behind?

Why am I


to everyone?

If Tammie could forgive sins,
I’m 100% sure

she’ll never forgive me.

I don’t know

why I think she could
—I don’t remember her.

But even someone

who loves me
the way Tammie

will never forgive me

for what I’ve done.

All I did
was give my little finger

in exchange for a life.

Tell me,

if the one I killed was you,
what more will you

ask from me?




I hear footsteps
behind me.

I know who it is.

That person
doesn’t speak.

Just stands

behind the greenhouse bench I’m sitting on

and breathes.

Asher, I guess.

There’s a sigh.


How did you know?


I heard the door
of the greenhouse open.

I didn’t smell
the vomit Tammie brings with her.

of saying

I point to Krishna digging holes
below the rowan trees

to bury her orange pips.

‘She told me.’

Identity revealed,
he still doesn’t

sit down next to me.

Does he know
I’m disappointed

it’s not Tammie?

Does he know
he isn’t anything

like her?


None of us speak.

even Krishna is quiet.

(Although occasionally,
she’ll look at me
and smile knowingly.)

The regulated air
that rhythmically

circles the glass hall

makes the rowan leaves
sing the same song

over and
over again.

Like a lullaby.

Only it sounds
(too much)

like Moonlight Sonata.



Asher speaks
when the sun begins

to fade

from the clouded sky.


You look like her.


who’s now picking weeds from her chessboard flowers,
uses her hands instead of her spade.


The one who ripped off my ear.


Why are you
the one here then?

I ask, not curious at all.

I feel him smile,
a laughter that fizzles out

and dies inside.


I killed her, of course.


The air
turns to ice.


If that can be forgiven
on account of my ear,

I won’t be here.


It becomes hard to breathe.


I think it hasn’t happened yet.
That she still owes me

an answer.


I turn
to face him.

I need to see his face.
The face

I’d be making

if I remember my own sins.


I still think it’s her fault

that I’m here.
That she’s the one

who ruined my life.


His face


the same

as it did
when he looked at me previously.


I get so angry
I want to kill you all over again.


He laughs

and it’s colder

than the ice
in the air.


I deserve to be here.
because I do it—

kill you again.

Over and over again.




Is he expecting me
to empathise?

To understand?

I can’t tell
from the expressionless expression

he’s making.

I can’t empathise—
I hope my lack of expression
conveys that.

I can’t understand—
I hope my unblinking eyes
tell him that.

He looks away first

from a staring contest
I didn’t know we’re playing.

You win,
he whispers.

And he leaves.

It’s only

the door clicks shut

behind him

that Krishna begins to laugh,
throwing weeds everywhere,

kicking her legs in the air
          like a little child.

I get up
to leave too.

is freaking me out


I touch
the cold door handle

and hear Krishna call out,


you really don’t understand anything.




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