Love from Trieste

By Kirsten Thorup

LA BELLE

She set her small shoes just inside the door and changed into embroidered slippers.

The floor was sprinkled with sand. She saw a tree just outside the window. Just ouside the window so that the leaves touched the panes. The trees bud in April. April was far away. Summer wasn´t over yet. The wind is harsh and cold in April. In April the full moon shines and the nights are completely light in April. Summer wasn´t over summer was always very long. Most people die in April.

On this very hot summer day she thought back upon her childhood and remembered all the many Sundays that her father and mother had been implacable and a cheerless dark living room and a large bearded man who talked on and on in a gloomy and incomprehensible manner. She felt crushed by the Biblical quotations which were totally inaccessible to her and the time seemed infinitely slow.

She almost didn´t care to walk down the very long and dusty road and the paper (with the two small angels) she had in her hand was sweaty and crumpled.

She went into the kitchen where her sandwich was ready. When she was finished she washed the plate and put it in the cup board. She sat down in the living room in the corner of the sofa.

La Belle thought about whether she should read a beautiful book or go out to the tree.


From Kirsten Thorup: Love From Trieste, Augustinus-Curbstone 1980

Translated by Nadia Christensen and Alexander Taylor