Dark Curtain by Natasha A. Salnikova

Author:Natasha A. Salnikova [Salnikova, Natasha A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781481076784
Amazon: 1481076787
Publisher: NAS
Published: 2012-08-18T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

I woke up in the middle of the night, suffocating. My heart pounded like a speeding train.

Khorn.

What the hell?

I looked at my wife. This time she hadn’t woke up and continued to snore from under the blanket. I put my legs down on the warm floor and went to the kitchen, trying not to squeak the door or the parquet flooring. I drank some water, listening to a strange noise. When I entered the hallway, I realized the source of the noise. It was coming from of my mother-in-law’s bedroom. She snored like a broken refrigerator.

Sure I loved her before. With the unconditional love of a happy puppy.

Every day I believed it more and more.

Before I returned to the bedroom, I stopped in the hallway under the storage space and then grabbed a chair out of the kitchen. I crawled on top of it and opened the doors. I didn’t need a table this time because what I needed was in front.

I moved the thin board to the side, pulled out the box, pressed it to my chest, and got down. I ran into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the light. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, flipped open the lid, and stared at the jewelry. There was a lot. Who did it belong to? To my mistresses? Who was I? How many lovers could I have had? Why did they give me their jewelry for Christ’s sake?

I took out a man’s ring, set the box beside me, and put the ring on my finger. It fit on my little finger. The ring wasn’t mine. Could I be gay?

I became hot at this thought. That would explain why I couldn’t get a hard on with my wife, but … No, it couldn’t be. It would be too much for my psyche. I didn’t even want to be a bi-sexual.

I raised my hand to the light and watched it play off the gold.

“I cut the finger to take it off.”

When this phrase reached my consciousness, I swallowed, pulled the ring from my finger, and dropped it back into the box.

How could anything like that come to me? What finger? I didn’t cut anybody’s fingers. This ring just … Maybe I was selling or buying jewelry. Maybe I had been doing it illegally. That could be it. I had never cut anything from anyone, and I was not gay. All of this was not mine.

I closed the box so hard, one of the sides cracked, but I didn’t care. I was going to throw it away.

I left the bathroom, put the box back inside the niche, and closed the board.

“What are you doing?”

I barely held onto the chair. I grabbed one of the doors, almost hanging on it.

“You scared me,” I said without turning. I closed the doors and climbed down from the chair.

My wife looked at me with a sleepy bewilderment.

“What are you doing?” she asked again.

“I remembered … There’s a toy. I wanted to get it out before forgetting.

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