HOME | DD

Description
My second attempt to a story written by my friend -

(Inspired by the myth of Lilith - According to Hebrew
legend, the first woman God created as a companion for
the first man Adam was a strong-willed lady named
Lilith. As both had been created from dust, Lilith
considered herself equal to Adam. Lilith objected to
having to lie beneath Adam during sexual intercourse,
but Adam would have it no other way. Lilith up and
left him, winding up in rabbinic tradition as a
baby-killing demoness who seduces sleeping men.
Translation mediated by =MackTheDeuce

It was so simple that I froze over the boiling chicken
soup. I was starring into joyful bubbles on the soup's
surface and I watched all those situations replay in
my mind, proving his unfaithfulness in such obvious
ways his. Flowers, gifts, long hours in the bathroom,
new cologne, sudden business trips . . . even his urge
for sex . . .

- Unbelievable, how stupid I have been!

What shall I do now? - I have been asking myself.

I just wanted to make sure - I had to be sure. Perhaps
I was hoping none of this was true.

I started to spy on him. It wasn't that difficult; he
was not even trying to hide what he was doing. I was
following him, the way you follow the string in a
labyrinth.
Where have I ended up? At my best friend's house.
The vulgarity of this commonplace has almost made me
puke. It's almost impossible this to be so average,
so hopelessly average, that is except for my best
friend.

I met with her for a talk in her apartment. She knew
from the beginning that I now knew as well. She
didn't seem moved. We were standing in a hall; I
don't know why I took the vase that was standing on a
table. I had feeling I have known it - like I've seen
it somewhere.

- So? she asked me.

I became furious. I looked at her with amazement.

- What you mean, "so?" You slept with my husband!

- Not only do I sleep with him but I do with him
things you never would. That's why he comes to me.
And you do all the things I don't; that's why he
always comes back. Let's face it, I will never wash
his shirt or cook him dinner. I'm not the kind of
woman who feels these things are her job - her smile
was mean - and don't tell me you don't like the
situation. You have been accepting it for years, and
now you suddenly dislike it? Besides, we both know
it's not about your husband.

- Liar! I would have never accepted this! I believed
you, trusted you, and you betrayed me! You betrayed
me terribly!

- I didn't betray you. She stopped looking at me
angrily. I felt really weird, trying to deny the
images from the past. And then she hit me again with
another verbal blow:
- I didn't even have to try very hard; you've only
helped me.

- You vicious bitch!

The scenes were coming back again and again .... She
is laughing, in a sunny room, naked, covered only with
her gold hair, hair that I am combing . . . now he
combs her hair. It made me mad. How I hated her!
How could she do that to me?

- Don't yell; I was not the one to start all of this.
Why don't you have the guts to face the truth? Who is
the bitch really?

It was a statement more than a question. It was too
much. It's all untrue. It was her fault and only her
fault! I hit her hard with the vase I was holding in
my hand. She screamed with fury. Then she started
laughing. She was laughed until she became completely
silent.

Silence.

I stood there, not even realizing what I had done. I
knew just one thing - I killed her. Then I heard my
husband's shouting:

- Ewa! What have you done??! You liked that mirror so
much! And why did you break that vase?

I looked on the floor, where the pieces of the broken
vase and mirror, a family heirloom from my
grandmother, were lying. I saw her face in one of the
pieces. She was smiling with triumph. She had my face.

the stock photo that helped me: [link]
thank you Patrick

Description
My second attempt to a story written by my friend -

(Inspired by the myth of Lilith - According to Hebrew
legend, the first woman God created as a companion for
the first man Adam was a strong-willed lady named
Lilith. As both had been created from dust, Lilith
considered herself equal to Adam. Lilith objected to
having to lie beneath Adam during sexual intercourse,
but Adam would have it no other way. Lilith up and
left him, winding up in rabbinic tradition as a
baby-killing demoness who seduces sleeping men.
Translation mediated by =MackTheDeuce

It was so simple that I froze over the boiling chicken
soup. I was starring into joyful bubbles on the soup's
surface and I watched all those situations replay in
my mind, proving his unfaithfulness in such obvious
ways his. Flowers, gifts, long hours in the bathroom,
new cologne, sudden business trips . . . even his urge
for sex . . .

- Unbelievable, how stupid I have been!

What shall I do now? - I have been asking myself.

I just wanted to make sure - I had to be sure. Perhaps
I was hoping none of this was true.

I started to spy on him. It wasn't that difficult; he
was not even trying to hide what he was doing. I was
following him, the way you follow the string in a
labyrinth.
Where have I ended up? At my best friend's house.
The vulgarity of this commonplace has almost made me
puke. It's almost impossible this to be so average,
so hopelessly average, that is except for my best
friend.

I met with her for a talk in her apartment. She knew
from the beginning that I now knew as well. She
didn't seem moved. We were standing in a hall; I
don't know why I took the vase that was standing on a
table. I had feeling I have known it - like I've seen
it somewhere.

- So? she asked me.

I became furious. I looked at her with amazement.

- What you mean, "so?" You slept with my husband!

- Not only do I sleep with him but I do with him
things you never would. That's why he comes to me.
And you do all the things I don't; that's why he
always comes back. Let's face it, I will never wash
his shirt or cook him dinner. I'm not the kind of
woman who feels these things are her job - her smile
was mean - and don't tell me you don't like the
situation. You have been accepting it for years, and
now you suddenly dislike it? Besides, we both know
it's not about your husband.

- Liar! I would have never accepted this! I believed
you, trusted you, and you betrayed me! You betrayed
me terribly!

- I didn't betray you. She stopped looking at me
angrily. I felt really weird, trying to deny the
images from the past. And then she hit me again with
another verbal blow:
- I didn't even have to try very hard; you've only
helped me.

- You vicious bitch!

The scenes were coming back again and again .... She
is laughing, in a sunny room, naked, covered only with
her gold hair, hair that I am combing . . . now he
combs her hair. It made me mad. How I hated her!
How could she do that to me?

- Don't yell; I was not the one to start all of this.
Why don't you have the guts to face the truth? Who is
the bitch really?

It was a statement more than a question. It was too
much. It's all untrue. It was her fault and only her
fault! I hit her hard with the vase I was holding in
my hand. She screamed with fury. Then she started
laughing. She was laughed until she became completely
silent.

Silence.

I stood there, not even realizing what I had done. I
knew just one thing - I killed her. Then I heard my
husband's shouting:

- Ewa! What have you done??! You liked that mirror so
much! And why did you break that vase?

I looked on the floor, where the pieces of the broken
vase and mirror, a family heirloom from my
grandmother, were lying. I saw her face in one of the
pieces. She was smiling with triumph. She had my face.

the stock photo that helped me: [link]
thank you Patrick