THE DARK BOOK
I could hear the wind bumping on my windows. It was still 10 pm, and I had not yet found anything to eat, no water to drink. Through the silence of the night, I started to remember the voice of my mother. She used to sing for me when I was cold and hungry. She used to tell me to fall asleep, and to forget about how grumpy my stomach was getting at that time. We would both look into each other’s eyes, and we would smile at each growling sound coming out of my belly. I guess this was a way to remind ourselves that life and death are both similar in some kind of way.
