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Chapter VII: The braying
Andi’s gentle eyes are wide open. He didn’t expect to see Helen ever again: not after the protest he dragged her to, six months ago. Everything thereafter made things even worse. He is no longer a policeman, and therefore: all the more surprised to see her at his door. Past midnight, in this state, and on Benji's side, who shouldn’t be here at all, but at home, dreaming of a future.
‘Jesus!’ it sputters from Andi's lips.
Helen is dripping with water, and cold. The freezing cold has her shivering, like autumn-leaves. Maybe she can't even speak. Her teeth are clattering louder than hooves, when Andi takes a step to the side to invite her in: to the flickering fire in his parlor, where the warm flames draw dancing shadows on the walls, and the cracking wood in the stove would drown out the entire world.
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As the moon began to rust VIII: The unburdening
Andi has always had responsibilities. When he was five years old, he had a hamster. A couple of cats, when he was ten. They mated, and had kittens. At 16, he had a dog. His first relationship came late: you’d want to be ready for it.Back then he thought it would last forever, but now at 45 he is on his own. Not in order to avoid responsibility, quite the opposite, in fact. There just doesn't seem to be a lid for his pot, in the shallow world outside his window.He is alone, but has rarely ever felt lonely. That is: until last year. His hunger for responsibility was one of the reasons why he joined the police at 22, and for the same reason, he had to quit the job at 44. Ground for dismissal: commitment to the Basic Law. They’ve sworn an oath to it, but unlike him, the others have apparently grown tired of theirs, which was why he got suspended.
As the moon began to rust Chapter IX: The sanctuary
It was the middle of the night. Completely dark: no moon, no stars. Or maybe there were. I should have been more attentive. Fog was everywhere. I felt the chill off it in every bone, and it hurt whenever I moved.I recognised him from my front door. It fell shut behind me: slowly, like in slow motion. The hinges squeaked, as if they were suffering, because the oil inside changes its viscosity in winter time. The door wasn’t yet closed, when my legs started running. Actually, I didn’t order them to run. I guess, it just happens as a reflex when the eyes detect distress on the horizon.Do you know what warm blood looks like in the freezing cold, when there's suddenly so much of it? Actually, you should, given your profession. It steams. A bit like manhole covers in winter, and if it’s pitch dark around you it looks like the
As the moon began to rust Prologue
Life is dead. They don’t know that, yet, but the bridges have been burning for a year. Soon they will disintegrate to ashes. For it to blame is something out there. It first befell the flesh and afterwards: the hearts. Left is nothing, only fear. Of each other and of oneself: of all the things they might have to do, may want to do, are doing to one another.It's a year of longing. Every inch of the body yearns for something more. The limbs are caught in restless tremble, and soft sighs linger on desperate lovers’ lips. Like on Helen’s. In her life, she has loved many things, mostly trivia. Black coffee in the morning, smiling strangers in the park, and the sense of freedom that crashing waves on stormy shores would wash into your heart.What she’s always loved most: lost things that the rest of the world overlooks. Empty snai
As the moon began to rust HER
It was the early morning of a freshly hatched winter’s day when it happened in the thick cloak of fog. Perhaps it would have been visible, if anyone had been beside her. With her, between blankets that smelled of loneliness, and suddenly damp of tears that kept dripping from her lashes, as if waking were the most horrible dream.Her heart was still beating when she opened her eyes. But how? She could feel it fade. It didn't fall apart like rotting branches, or splinter like bones that are weak. Instead, it atomised like a bomb in an explosion.Prior to this day, it had broken in every possible way. Slowly. Suddenly. Violently. Bluntly. Into two pieces and into ten, hundreds, thousands of them. Oftentimes it broke on its own, other times it had been shattered: through carelessness or cruelty, and thrown against the wall, it had left stains, alm
As the moon began to rust Chapter I: Her circumstances
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As the moon began to rust Chapter II: Her burdens
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As the moon began to rust Chapter III: Her straw
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- As the moon began to rust THE OTHERS
- As the moon began to rust Chapter VI: His straw
- As the moon began to rust Chapter V: His burdens
- As the moon began to rust Chapter IV: His circumstances
- As the moon began to rust HIM
- As the moon began to rust Chapter III: Her straw
