Mum bought a new dress and was happy for a while –
woollen, winter dress, dark blue,
the neckline was shaped like a glass of wine; the dress had embroidery
and a knitted belt and stopped a few inches above her knees; she had
pretty legs, and hands, and hair, and face; she put the dress on and
did a pirouette in front of the mirror; when dad came back from work
and saw her all smiling and happy, his face turned red
– you want men to turn after you on the street, huh?
I heard him saying.
Then the shouting muffled his words; the beating lasted all night; all
night I stayed up in my room, barefoot, frightened, only six, praying
my mum would be alive in the morning.
She was.
I found her on the floor, still wearing the dress, blue mixed with
red; I saw the sadness flowing from her eyes and turning into a puddle;
the marks on her face remained for days; they were the same blue as
the new dress.