The fear in her eyes and the knife in the chest

That’s my last memory of my mother

That’s why I had to go to prison for four years

Even though she survived it

After that it went good for a while

Until I met that 70 year old

“Oh my god” were her last words

Then she was dead

I didn’t know her and I didn’t steal anything

That damned idea was suddenly there

I just had to

I couldn’t explain it

So I went to prison for 10 years

Then the psychologists got interested in my inner life

When they asked me about my dreams, I told them about flowers

Flowers

Always just flowers.

Apart from that, I could fantasize in my mind whatever I wanted…

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