Too Much Static For A Beguine

Indifference, masculine, traitor, and into that milling swarm the enemies pointed their guns towards the window panes of our rooms. Tonight, a few meters further from the house, her father shows off a few gold english coins, pretending to offer them as an act of charity. The winter must be in the house. Soon. In the harms of night, a silence which even crickets don? t dare profane. Repeated howls are heard. We walk to the lake and sink into the frozen water. Everything is static