Bread Alone

For Lorca

32 For Lorca In a sterilized room walls danced with sundown’s scarlet shadows; a woman went there with her eldest daughter. The cell was deserted— a single cot and a shower around the corner. On white sanatorium sheets she urged the girl to perform unholy acts, and the child was obedient—her young rosy lips and tongue brought the mother such delirious pleasure she never heard the shriek of sirens, the stiff, bitter chorus of militia boots swallowing the ground. Shuddering in agony, she was deaf to the cries of the valiant guards as the Republic fell forever. When the sin was finished she pulled the girl toward the shower collapsed at her feet and apologized 33 What have I done? She begged the daughter: Don’t ever tell! But once an act is committed it cannot be undone. This is called hell. ...