( the water is cold on his back. biting, burrowing under his skin and into his bones.
the orphanage had only cold water. very nice in sokovian summers when the sun baked the concrete and the grass crinkled beneath their feet but not so nice in sokovian winters when the temperature hovered around -20 and they had to wear their coats, gloves, and hats to bed. that was if water was available. a lot of times it would shut off. pipes older than lenin would burst, militias would breach the city, or the oligarchs would think swimming pools or fountains were a more adequate usage for the dwindling water supply. each time, it would leave thousands of people without water for weeks.
he thinks about the showers at the orphanage: the sallow walls, the sharp smell of ammonia, the weak sunlight through the frosted windows, and the chill on his knees and hands. scrubbing the showers with a toothbrush or scouring pots and pans in the kitchen — that was where he could usually be found. "talk back to the sisters again, pietro?" yeah, he's performing his daily act of repentance.
there were so many rules at the orphanage that he never knew he broke until a ruler struck the back of his knees or a pair of bony fingers hooked his ear and pulled. during confessional, he never admitted to breaking any of the orphanage's rules, instead confessing the same list of sins committed before they lost their parents: stealing a few pieces of hard candy from the market, locking wanda in the cupboard, copying wanda's homework, cutting the hair off wanda's doll; grabbing a dog by its hind legs, and pushing him around like a vacuum cleaner. why feign guilt and seek forgiveness for actions he never considered sins? out of fear of hell? what were those two days under the bed with a missile three feet away from them? what was the orphanage?
he showers quickly before the water goes out or turns into sludge. within seconds, pietro gets into a powder blue tracksuit — custom from nike with his name emblazoned across the chest — and is sitting at the counter, sipping tea from a tall, ceramic mug. no sugar. but a shot of rum. he almost changed the record to something else: stravinsky, penderecki, schnittke — anything not by a fascist, but decides against riling up wanda further. for the same reason, he admitted guilt to locking her in the cupboard, copying her homework, and cutting the hair off her doll. his presence is trouble enough for her. no reason to pile it on. )
no subject
the orphanage had only cold water. very nice in sokovian summers when the sun baked the concrete and the grass crinkled beneath their feet but not so nice in sokovian winters when the temperature hovered around -20 and they had to wear their coats, gloves, and hats to bed. that was if water was available. a lot of times it would shut off. pipes older than lenin would burst, militias would breach the city, or the oligarchs would think swimming pools or fountains were a more adequate usage for the dwindling water supply. each time, it would leave thousands of people without water for weeks.
he thinks about the showers at the orphanage: the sallow walls, the sharp smell of ammonia, the weak sunlight through the frosted windows, and the chill on his knees and hands. scrubbing the showers with a toothbrush or scouring pots and pans in the kitchen — that was where he could usually be found. "talk back to the sisters again, pietro?" yeah, he's performing his daily act of repentance.
there were so many rules at the orphanage that he never knew he broke until a ruler struck the back of his knees or a pair of bony fingers hooked his ear and pulled. during confessional, he never admitted to breaking any of the orphanage's rules, instead confessing the same list of sins committed before they lost their parents: stealing a few pieces of hard candy from the market, locking wanda in the cupboard, copying wanda's homework, cutting the hair off wanda's doll; grabbing a dog by its hind legs, and pushing him around like a vacuum cleaner. why feign guilt and seek forgiveness for actions he never considered sins? out of fear of hell? what were those two days under the bed with a missile three feet away from them? what was the orphanage?
he showers quickly before the water goes out or turns into sludge. within seconds, pietro gets into a powder blue tracksuit — custom from nike with his name emblazoned across the chest — and is sitting at the counter, sipping tea from a tall, ceramic mug. no sugar. but a shot of rum. he almost changed the record to something else: stravinsky, penderecki, schnittke — anything not by a fascist, but decides against riling up wanda further. for the same reason, he admitted guilt to locking her in the cupboard, copying her homework, and cutting the hair off her doll. his presence is trouble enough for her. no reason to pile it on. )