![]() ![]() I can feel him pushing me to the floor, one hand on my shoulder, the other hand on my waist. “Stop! Please stop! What are you doing-? This is crazy-” Moshe puts his hand over my mouth and I taste the salt of his sweat. He yanks it down in one quick motion, and I bend over reflexively to hide myself, screaming this time. ![]() ![]() One hand lifts my wrists up over my head and the other reaches for the zipper to my housedress. I lift my knee up to kick him, but he fixes my legs against the wall with his own thick thighs, crushing me with his weight. But his face isn’t relaxed into his usual pose of disinterested amusement. ![]() I scan his face to see if this is just a silly game he is playing, this bad boy who got kicked out of yeshiva and wants to scare me in the cellar. Me, who can lift an air-conditioning unit up a whole flight of stairs. His grip on my wrists is tight and painful, and my forearms feel brittle, like twigs. Standing this close to me, his tomato-sauce breath on my forehead, Moshe’s body feels unexpectedly large and solid. One finger still grips the heavy key ring. “I feel him guiding me to the wall, and I’m not struggling, my arms paralyzed by shock. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |