Curfew
When night falls, I sit on my balcony and gaze at the streetlamp below. A week ago, I kissed Maria beneath its globe. A cop, with a twisted smile, arrived and warned us that the curfew would soon begin. Anyone found on the street would be arrested.
Maria had to prepare a lecture on Freedom. So she rushed to her apartment three blocks away, vanishing into the darkness. The cop left too.
Maria is missing. The officer’s back, looking up at me, and wearing his twisted smile. Our eyes meet. Later, we will share the abandoned streets and THE TRUTH. Perhaps, even death.
