Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2004 - Ljudmila

Katarina Marinčič
Then he dressed. At the moment he was fastening his belt he was forced
to catch Setra’s eyes again.
She was alone, and much closer than before. She had tucked up her
skirt, her legs were wet up to her knees, and the front of her dress was
wet too. Her high-pitched breasts were embellished with her curls, which
even the water could not straighten. She was smiling through angrily
clenched teeth. In her outstretched hands she was holding an eel she had
just caught. The fish was twitching in agony, and finally went limp. Then
Setra licked her lips and smiled more vividly, much more happily. She was
smiling at the dead animal.
She never gave Vel another look, rolled the eel into a ball and gently
laid it on a tuft of grass. In so doing she secretly touched the bow.
She left and looked at Vel over her shoulder.
And Vel Matuna knew what it was all about.
»My son doesn’t eat sea-fish,« Fastia said to Setra’s mother when they
were sitting in the main room. »He loves fresh-water fish. Especially eel.«
Translated by Lili Potpara
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