The Bread the Devil Knead

use my lighter to light the stove.

As I waiting for the water to boil I sit down and start back reading my book. The table nasty, like the stove. I feel long time it used to be red like the cigarette pack – carmine? A nice word, carmine – but now it just kind of fadey-orangey colour. Tangerine. Right in the centre of the table it had a big circle of bright red – carmine! – as though it

Thank God for books.

This is how I does see the world: by reading books. I does go to London, Hong Kong, Siberia, even, when I read a book.

‘And you? You still love he?’ she challenge me, looking straight in my eye.

A hard question for so early in the morning. And what is love? I human, I have feelings. I with the man. Of course I love him. Yet, the way he love me does make me hate myself.