The Blue Bed

They hardly noticed that the majority of pictures and sculptures was missing, that from the rooms all that could be worth anything had been taken. They walked into their room without looking around. But even their room was empty. The huge blue four poster bed, the wooden chest with the fancy dresses and the jewelry, the marble table, the carpets, the armchairs, even the candle holders and the vases, all had disappeared. On the empty floor there were still some dry roses smashed by heavy feet, and some spots of spilled wine.

The two crawled into the corner of their room in which their bed used to stand, snuggled closely together, and closed their eyes so they could imagine that everything was as it used to be. Calmed down each by the beat of the other's heart they fell asleep.

*

When voices inside the house awoke them again they did not open their eyes, they just hid more deeply in the dark corner, hardly daring to breathe. From far away they could hear the noise of big machines, and at the same time voices that seemed to wander through the house, searching for something. Miraculously, no one entered their room. Foot steps passed their door without stopping. Finally the voices ebbed away, while the noise outside grew louder yet.

The house was shaken by a tremor and the children clung to each other as tightly as they could. Quietly they hummed a melody, their only memory of their mother who had left them much too early. They hugged each other, happy to be together, while the house collapsed around them.