The Quiet Tenant by Clémence Michallon EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Clémence Michallon
- Language: English
- Genre: Serial Killers
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
The woman in the shed
You like to think every woman has one, and he just happens to be yours.
It’s easier this way. If no one’s free. There is no room in your world for
the ones still outside. No love for the wind in their hair, no patience for the
sun on their skin.
He comes at night. Unlocks the door. Drags his boots through a trail of
dead leaves. Shuts the door behind him, slides the deadbolt into place.
This man: young, strong, groomed. You think back to the day you met,
to that brief moment before he revealed his true nature, and here’s what you
see: A man who knows his neighbors. Who always takes out the recycling on
time. Who stood in the delivery room the day his child was born, a steady
presence against the evils of the world. Mothers see him in line at the grocery
store and shove their babies into his arms: Can you hold her for a minute, I
forgot the formula, be right back.
And now he’s here. Now he’s yours.
There is an order to what you do.
He glances at you, a look that serves as an inventory. You are here. All
two arms, two legs, one torso, and one head of you.
Then comes the sigh. A softening in the muscles of his back as he settles
into your shared moment. He bends to adjust the electric heater or the fan,
depending on the season.
You put out your hand and receive a Tupperware box. Steam rises from
the lasagna, the shepherd’s pie, the tuna casserole, whatever else it might be.
The food, piping hot, leaves blisters on the roof of your mouth.
He hands you water. Never in a glass. Always in a canteen. Nothing that
can be broken and sharpened. The cold liquid sends electric shocks through
your teeth. But you drink, because the time to drink is now. A metallic taste
lingers in your mouth afterward.
He gives you the bucket, and you do what you have to do. You stopped
feeling ashamed a long time ago.
He takes your waste and leaves you for a minute or so. You hear him
right outside, the padding of his boots against the ground, the spray of the
hose. When he comes back, the bucket is clean, full of soapy water.
He watches as you clean yourself. In the hierarchy of your body, you are
the tenant and he is the landlord. He hands you your tools: a bar of soap, a
plastic comb, a toothbrush, a small tube of toothpaste. Once a month, the
anti-lice shampoo. Your body
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