forevermore

two little whos,

me and you.

dancing around;

silently blue.

one little kiss,

on a cheek that I’ll miss,

wondering if,

you'll remember us too.

______

In loving reference to [2 Little Whos] by e. e. cummings.

forevermore by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

'Wolf'

“So, this wolf, what does he look like?”

“It’s a she, doctor,” said the boy, in a manner that suggested this was self-evident.

“You can tell that by looking at it?”

“Sure. She has black fur with a wide silver stripe on her back that starts from the tip of her nose and goes straight all the way to the end of her tail. In the night, she’s like a silver arrow, the rest of her fading against the dark woods. Except for her eye, of course.”

“Eye, singular?”

“Yes, one, bright-red eye, glowing with anger. The left side of her face is torn off, she probably had some terrible accident. So, yes, only one eye.”

“You’re very good at describing things, aren’t you?”

“I read a lot,” said the boy, a hint of pride in its voice.

“And if you’ve seen her, why has she not hurt you?”

“Her problem is not with me. Someone hurt her, she seeks revenge. But, she gets frustrated sometimes, and others might have to pay as well, until she finds them.”

“Until she finds who?”

“The person who killed her, doctor.”

“She’s dead?”

“Of course she’s dead, half of her face is missing. That’s not a wound one could shrug off and keep on going. She’s dead. She wants to find her killer. She will get them in the end, you know.”

“I’m sure she will. Let’s hope no one else is hurt in the process, boy.”

“Is he going to be ok, doctor?” inquired the boy’s father, his face wearing a worried frown.

“He’s fine. Your child simply has a vivid imagination, that’s all.”

“But, why does he keep crying ‘wolf’? Why not some other animal? And, what about the killings? Another goat was found dead, it was on the radio just as I was waiting for your session to finish.”

“Well, that’s great news! This probably means your boy couldn’t have been involved in it. And I’m sure there must be a more reasonable explanation than a magical, ghost wolf who seeks revenge. Some bear that is loose in the woods and wants to get well fed before the winter, maybe?”

“She’ll keep coming back, you know”, the boy said. “She’ll be back tonight.”

“Then, let’s hope she stays away from the village. Right, boy? Good lad. Here, have a lollipop.”

“Thank you for coming, doctor,” said the father, leading him towards the house entrance.

“My pleasure.”

           

 The doctor was driving back to his home in the city. The howl of a wild animal could be clearly heard in the distance, somewhere to the left of the country road he was on. His fists were clenched, his knuckles almost white against the black steering wheel. The colar of his shirt was damp with sweat.

How could the boy have known all this? The torn face, the silver back, a female wolf... No! I’m being paranoid. This must be a coincidence, he reassured himself.

But he couldn’t completely reassure himself. After all, he still remembered that night, about two months ago when he was visiting that boy’s village once more. When he had a little fun, got a little drunk, and was certain he could drive all the way back to the city, no problem. After all, he had done it a hundred times before, hadn’t he?

And that stupid animal, jumping in front of the car out of nowhere. Why was I to blame? Could the boy have witnessed it? Maybe seen the body? he wondered, as another howl came from the woods, more piercing than the first one. He stepped on the pedal as hard as he could, ignoring the urge to glance towards the source of the sound. He knew he was probably being paranoid. Still - he was almost certain - the howls were getting closer.

______

'Wolf' by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

unwanted

“please, help me!”

her age not more than 35,

her voice broken,

half a shout, half a wail.

“please help me, my dear people,

and god bless you.

please, I have nothing to eat.”

she carries a heavy odor around with her,

the smell of old closets

and grandmother’s houses.

“please, please my good people

I need something for my child,

my poor child has nothing to eat.”

some train passengers seem annoyed,

some are expertly ignoring her.

“please, no food, no home for my poor child and me,

please my good ladies,

my good gentlemen god bless you,

please help me.”

her voice is getting louder,

her cry piercing through the ears

and straight to the soul

- when it can find one.

“please, my good, my lovely people,

please my child needs your help.

you have children, don’t you,

and god bless them my good people.

please help me, please help my child.”

some passengers are moving away from her,

as much as they can in the crowded train,

some flinch as she touches them,

some look seriously angry.

“please, my child is starving,

please, my good ladies I cannot find work.

help me find food for my baby.

just a few coins,

just some of your leftovers my good people,

please help me.”

she cannot keep moving inside the train,

stuck in a part now too full of commuters,

none willing to move out of the way for her.

but she keeps imploring,

begging them for help.

“please my dear ladies, my dear gentlemen,

please, my baby, I need food for my baby.

please help my baby, ...”

a hand is placed over her mouth,

hushing her.

after reaching the final stop

it was the train operator

that discovered her;

sitting inside the train,

her eyes, wide open,

wearing small red stains,

her lips pierced by her teeth,

her skin an otherworldly shade of gray,

her voice nowhere to be found,

nowhere to be heard.

______

unwanted by Dimitrios Kokkinos is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License