E.d.Noir/kitchen scene conclusion

 

“What is going on here?” 

It is Jörn in the doorway of the kitchen looking at us.

I stare frozen at him. Why do I feel guilty? I have done nothing wrong. And whatever I’ve done he will find out anyway from Andreas. Still, I feel guilty. Why do I always feel guilty ….for protecting myself….

but —now I stare at him; something about the grey in the shirt he wears and—I don’t know what comes over me. I foolishly have to catch myself on the back of the chair for losing my balance….and hide the way I catch my breath for how he looks ….and in what he wears; skin tight henley, shoulders and muscles…. and looking up, into his eyes and face …..of which I know every line and crease of —as if I put it all there myself ….how still he does this to me….and then 

I am caught and then lost within those eyes of kryptonite

Yet with not much ceremony, he takes hold of my wrist, gives bolts of lightening with his gaze at Andreas and says, 

“coming then?” with his vocal pitch aimed at me, and with a yank, pulls me out the door with him

be in that patch of blue sky 

today the sun shines pretty 

once upon a time the world was flat until one supposed it wasn’t 

 oh no it’s just fiction dear 

it is that mirage of Agamemnon ….we cannot ever reach it, it will always disappear ….

 

Another keyhole anonymous diary 

About Electra ….

a child does not know the meaning of the word bastard, but the child knows what it feels like to be 

from the moment the child comes into the world and is handled 

the child feels what it means to be bastard 

it does not show to an otherwise world 

once you leave their nebula —but the stain has not only embedded itself, but with it, the years of toxic abusive actions have altogether set the pattern of the weave in the outcome of fortune 

it does not matter the lineage but —how was it the black maid put it that day on the bus as they gossiped about their reverend looking at me, 

“she born on da wrong side of da blanket, dat child, dat’s whad I got to say about dat, mmm-mmm….sweet Jesus….an’ a reverend’s bastard! sweet Jesus amen, mmm-mmm!”

the poisonous stares ….they sting like a wasp ….”now, never mind them, miss,” Annie says and reaches to comfort with a gentle pat, “our’s is the next stop miss, you gets to meet my sonny, ain’t dat a nice surprise?”

because, again, nobody remembered ….to get her