When apricots will forget - FINISHED -

In the cabin

After so many years, my revenge burned high with the flames that night. Some acts do not need to be justified, they are deserved.

Ezik could barely make out the tall trees beside him. He didn't care. He could feel the warmth of Curry's muzzle on his lap. The dog, sensing his master's distress, had remained wisely at his side. From time to time he asked for a caress, which Ezik gave him absentmindedly. Will anyone ever come this way?  he thought. The garden was in the middle of nowhere, far from the road. Maybe his wife would worry that he wouldn't come home? Maybe the police would find his abandoned car and the phone he left inside. Then they would look around.

Even if they could find me, Ezik thought, I still wouldn't be able to get out of here. How did Kirke get free? Did she use me? This question shook the young man out of his torpor. He stood up slowly, his muscles numb from the wounds of his escape attempts and from the next few hours of sitting still. He quickly rubbed his clothes and found that he was not cold, despite the late night and only a T-shirt on his back. He could feel the light wind rushing through the gaps in his sleeves, but the sensation was not unpleasant. It just existed. He was not hungry, nor thirsty either. He hadn't eaten anything since the end of the morning. Kirke had mentioned that she needed neither water nor food as long as she stayed in the garden. So it was true. At least that was one less problem he would have to deal with.

Machinally, he took out his pack of tobacco. He had about ten cigarettes left before he ran out. By automatism, he put one in his mouth and lit it. As he inhaled the smoke that helped him calm down, he wondered if he would feel withdrawal when he had consumed them all. He watched the little white clouds come out of his mouth with each exhale. He knew that most of the cigarettes he smoked daily were futile and only related to habits he didn't want to give up for lack of resolve. But, for once, he savoured the dry taste intensely as it dried out his gullet.

Slightly invigorated by the idea of being able to find answers to his problem, Ezik approached the old hut with its decrepit walls. The high moon was his only source of light and he could not see anything within fifty centimetres of him. When he was close enough, he noticed that the door was closed and still seemed solid. Cautiously, he pulled down the old iron latch and heard a click, telling him that the lock still worked. He was relieved when, pushing the door, it opened without resistance.

Ezik's eyes only caught a rough outline of the hut's interior through the single window to the outside. He could not see the ground beneath his feet and hesitated to move forward. At the back of the room he seemed to recognise a bed. Under the left window was a wooden table. Wishing to see more, he took a few steps forward. The noise under his shoes made him react immediately and he stepped back, surprised. Each step sounded like boots in the snow. Unable to identify the reason for the sound, and not having the courage to put his hands directly on the ground to recognise its texture, he stepped back and decided to spend the night under the stars.

***

The sun awakened Ezik. He got up, his muscles aching from the hard ground he had slept on for a few hours. Curry immediately came to him and, after absentmindedly petting his dog, Ezik walked back to the old hut and opened the door for the second time.

In the light of day, the interior no longer seemed so frightening. Ezik immediately recognised the source of the strange noises he had heard under his feet last night: the floor around the table was covered with yellowed and dried-up paper. It was impossible to enter the room without stepping on it. The desk was also overwhelmed by a mountain of mismatched papers. As he had glimpsed the day before, an old bed lay against the far wall, next to which was a large double-door wardrobe. There was no other door visible and Ezik deduced that there was only one room.