Secrets

Early twilight. The light in the window is about to come on. What are they having for dinner tonight? Pizza again. She can almost smell it. The kids reach for another slice. Their faces are smeared with ketchup. Dad draws mustaches on them. And on himself. Everyone is laughing. The mother’s seat is empty.

don’t come tonight, Death,
look my bed is too narrow
for the two of us

By Mariola Grabowska