Twenty-Seven

I went back to the icy lake to meet the Siberian man. We were standing in the water, and I told him that I wanted to die. “I know” he said. I didn’t have to say more, I didn’t have to explain that I would never do something like that to my daughter and my husband. He knew. We understood each other. We were just there, looking into each other’s eyes, holding hands.

Then I lied down in the water, let myself sink. The ice slowly covered me, it grew thicker and thicker, and I wouldn’t have been able to lift my head even if I had wanted to. But I didn’t want to.

The Siberian man was by my side, holding my hand. I was drowning. My body struggling for air, I could feel my pulse racing. And yet, I was calm inside, everything was alright. Without moving at all, I was waiting for something.

And then, suddenly, I was outside my body, floating.  I saw myself, frozen into ice, and the Siberian man – still there, still holding my hand…

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