Читать книгу Repetition Nineteen - Mónica de la Torre - Страница 24

‘The quiet before an announcement.

A mouthful of coffee.

Then the acrimony—the acrimony!—in such bitter substitutions.

At the pass there were two roads.

I closed my eyes and speculated if they were mirrored.

Not to say that I took this to be true on the basis of insufficient evidence, like in the tome.

My reflection lacked such polish.

One thing was clear: all three of them had parents.

Peace, security, sure. But also accomplices, enemies.

Call them what you will.

Collaborators, cronies, reciprocal minions, nursing their resentment.

A symbol, a distinctive designation, an epithet, even a record.

When anything could be a name, two people might as well be four.

What to do here?

I’m no baker.

I could make you a place in which to lie.

Please let me burn.