Short Story Preview: Psychiko – Gabriela Harding
Psychiko, Athens, Greece
The Macedonian whore was dead. Her mouth – a tight purple line. The fabulous breasts flattened with cling film. Her damp hair sweeping the marble patio.
They loaded her in the back of the truck like a sack of rice. A gun barked. As the engine whirred into life, and the Army car began the descent of the steep hill, its lights off as it slipped through the orange trees in bloom, I realised with a jolt that Babis’ face had vanished from the window of his tiny hut.
Hana De Ville knelt on her bedroom floor, the reflection of the blue flame flickering in her eyes. The foil curled and twisted, before vanishing into thin air, where the white powder floated, fine as dust.
“One, two, three!” She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Her nostrils flared.
In a few seconds, Hana sniffed around her. She glared at Dakini. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted downwards.
“You bitch!” she snarled. “It was my turn!”
Dakini giggled. She scratched her thigh under the skirt of her uniform, until the goose pimples on her skin started to bleed.
“Come on, Hana. Get a grip. We’re partying. We’re all good.”
I stood by the window, watching the dusk set over the city. In the distance, the outlines of the dog-eared Acropolis seemed to float in the shimmering clouds. The sound of shattered glass exploded in my ears, but my body reacted in slow motion. My limbs were heavy; I felt like I was treading water with leaden arms and legs.