Suzanna

Tcherr’s Tale

It was a dark and stormy night. Tcherr didn’t realise it was the lightning that woke him up, he thought it was a bad dream. And now that he was up, he thought he may as well get a drink of water. Standing next to the window with the glass in his hand, he wondered why he had that bad dream the previous night, it wasn’t like he was an evil person to have such an evil dream. The horror of it, he shuddered to relive it. The images were vivid. The same dream every day. A child sits on his lap. The child is already scared and Tcherr can feel it, he can sense the fear that sends shivers down that tiny soul’s spine. Then the child clutches Tcherr’s arms, digs his nails into it, and starts wailing. Tcherr wonders why the child can’t just get off him and do the crying, but eerily enough, the child was strapped onto Tcherr. It wasn’t like Tcherr wanted the child trapped like that, but that was the way it was. A dentist’s chair was probably the worst thing to be.

(On the dentist’s chair)