you were not a friend, Sambuca and I started out fearing you. and you know this. you must have even enjoyed it. but over time , we came to find a way to coexist. a way to equalize both our strengths, and weaknesses, threats and counter threats. our detant, was not to be for long, i am afraid, as you know all too well.

what I did was inexcusable,

there was trust between us, Sambuca, and it is that, and its betrayal, which I saw through your disbelieving eyes, at that moment so long ago, as they glared in surprise and shock, and pain, which burn in my mind, as they always burned under the bed.

those five yellow eyes of yours, so haunting as they were, haunt me still, Sambuca.

Perhaps I betrayed myself as much as I betrayed you. sure, there was no torment, like you had undoubtedly been feeling all these years, yet in my hearts, Sambuca, i feel your pain every day of my life. and what's more, to my horror I know today, that as I was preparing for your downfall, I was aware that the knife would inevitably cut both ways, sending both of us to suffer.

Know, Sambuca, that I would have much deserve it, if things were otherwise, and it would be you living a life of regret, and me being the prodded beast, to be tortured for the amusement of Those Cruel things.

But it is not so, and I made my sad choice, my snare, and trap. I sold you and you did not sell me, Sambuca.

I imagine, dear Sambuca, and hope that your period of serving as a plaything, as a trifling object, who's only worth is measured by its shreiks and by its agonized survival, had also moments of triumph. that you stood firm and succeeded. I hope you survived, dear Sambuca, longer than the pain , survived with some measure of victory in those abomitable games of them.

but I know that eventually , you didn't.

no one could.

which is the only reason, again, to my shame, that I allow myself to write this.

forgive me, where ever you are,

Sambuca, forgive me.

Bogdan_Dragos

40 reads

the ultimate thief

sparks blazing in her

eyes,

she watched him from

across the fire

sitting silently on her

small log,

bracing herself

shivering a little

“You see,” he said, “this fire

gives off more sparks

than flames.”

She nodded

And he went on, “It's because

it uses souls as

fuel. I'm burning

things that once used

to be part of people,

things imbued with

their

essence.

A favorite scarf gifted by

a loved one

before departing,

a wife's beloved ring,

a child's doll

that resembles their mother,

a purse that

is seen as magical by a rich

merchant who

thinks she got rich

by holding money in it,

an army general's lucky

loincloth.

These objects have in them

parts of the

souls of people who used to

own them.

Other thieves think they're stealing

things of value, but

they don't know what

true value means.

Me, I'm no ordinary thief, as

you can tell.”

She nodded

and a long silence

stretched between them, only

the crackle of the flames

and the sizzling of the sparks,

and a very distant

wolf's howl

made the air vibrate

Then he told her,

“A great storm is coming.”

Concerned, she looked around

into the night

sky and then back

at the fire and the man

across from it. But she said

nothing.

“Let's go,” he said. “Inside my

cabin. We'll be safe there.”

Now she spoke. “No. I can't.”

“You can't?”

“I'm sorry. Cabin is too... narrow.

I'm afraid.”

“I have a cat's hind leg

preserved in salt

there. Wouldn't you want to kiss

and suck at the pillowy

paw? To trace its

claws across your tongue

and lips?

It feels great. Comforting.”

She shook her

head. “I can't. Can't go

into...”

“Into narrow spaces,” he finished

for her. “They terrify you.

You've always been

like that, haven't you?

Hence, you came to me,

to the greatest thief of all

times. You want me

to steal away your fear of

small, narrow places.”

She tried to speak

but managed only

a fervent nod

“I see,” he said. “Well then,

rest assured.

You've been robbed

already. You've been robbed

the moment you

set foot in here.”

“H-how?”

“I told you. I am the thief

of all thieves. Before you

see me once,

I will have seen you

for a lifetime. The ultimate thief

is he who is so good

that the victim doesn't

even realize they've been

stolen from.

So stand now, dear, and follow

me inside the

narrow cabin.

Your fear is now in my pockets,

however I was so

subtle that you didn't notice. You

think you still have it.

Yet I must ask

you, what is there

for the dead to fear?”

She hesitated. “I... don't know.”

“That's right. You don't

know. And never will. And what

you don't know

can't hurt you, can it?

Now stand, child. And follow

me inside.”

She stood

but didn't follow as he

departed for the cabin

“What's wrong?” he asked

“The storm that is approaching,”

she said. "I don't fear

it either. I don't

need safety.”

Her words made him burst

into laughter. “Ah, I knew it

was a great idea to

let you find me.

Very well then. When you've had

enough of the storm,

I'll be waiting for

you inside.”

He went in

and closed the door

the storm was

getting ever closer

She brought her log closer to

the fire

and placed her naked feet

in the flames,

looked up at the sky

and laughed

the thunder laughed

right back

***

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