Читать книгу The Confessions Of A Concubine онлайн

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***

A confession.

The first.

The words come out in drops, digging into recent events, too recent for them not to still hurt.

I have to shape my will.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned."

Forgive me.

Forgiveness.

"I desire another woman's man."

Forgive me, O father.

The confessional is dark and through the grate I glimpse a figure intent on listening to me, his head bowed.

"My girl, the flesh is weak."

Forgive me, O father.

"My flesh is not weak, I want his soul, I want his words, I just want a little sweetness, a little affection, a little love."

Forgive me, O father and tell me what I can do: my dark existence has found that glimmer that gives color to everything, but he cannot belong to me and I cannot belong to him.

"My child, I know, it's hard."

Forgive me, O father but I can't help but have him in my thoughts in every second of every minute of every day.

"Forgive me, O father."

My knees begin to ache, as if the wood on which they are resting had suddenly become very rough.