Spinnerin am MorgenGerman poem
bringt Kummer und Sorgen.
Spinnerin am Abend
bringt Glück und Gaben.
<Skipped the beginning>
By morning, reality caught up with me, and this spinster turned into a sour partner. She picked up her phone, scrolled through her Instagram account. When she showed me the screen, I knew I had fucked up. I was looking at myself, back in Bosnia. And it was the last picture her friend had posted.
I got up from the bed, went into the bathroom to take a leak, and I silently underwent the questions she fired at me. I pulled the hair dryer from the wall and went back into the bedroom. That is when she asked me if I was the perp from the news from Szczecin.
As I pulled the electric wire tight around her neck, I told her the truth. I told her that she would be turned into a fly tattoo on my arm. Because I am a spider, and I kill flies. Especially the ones that are a nuisance; those buzzing around my head with annoying questions.
Als je het hele hoofdstuk wil lezen, in het Nederlands, bestel het boek Bekentenissen van mijn leven als spin hier.
If you want to read the entire chapter, order the book Confessions of my life as a spider here – it’s shipping world wide.