This excerpt is from a story I began a very long time ago. It is a school-ish type story (majority age of course) about a girl named Mira who studies abroad. She has a slight crush on her tutor, and she has the impossible desire both to remain in her tutor’s good graces and to experience the corporal punishment of her school. After her second desire is fulfilled, she realizes how much she has lost.
I can’t help myself, and a strangled mewl muffles itself in her shoulder. She strokes my hair and hugs me tightly.
“It’s all right, honey,” she reassures me. “It’ll be all right.”
My leaden arms remain at my sides. But the warmth of her words begins to melt the icicle pain in my heart.
(c) Anastasia Vitsky
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