ΘΑΡΡΟΣ

A complaint letter.

Dear X,

I am writing to you with reference to all the broken pieces I found last night in my apartment. But in order to clarify the intentions of my complaint letter, I have first to set the story straight.

Last night I went out and I drank a lot. (I get drunk too easily: this is a piece of information that might prove menacing to me if you use it improperly.) I got back home alone and after a great effort I managed to find the keys and unlock the door. But the door was already unlocked. Within my fuzzy mind I tried to repeat the sequel of the actions I performed before leaving the house. And at my amazement I verified the fact that I had indeed locked the door. I feared that someone had broken into my apartment but the alcohol had loosened up my resistances so I decided to get in and –if necessary- defend my home and myself. As I passed through the door I took off my shoes not to make the burglar understand my presence. But as I walked slowly and carefully, out of a sudden I felt a piercing pain in my feet. Broken glasses covered the floor, all shiny and sharp. There was no empty space that I could step on but I had to move on- I was determined. My feet started to bleed and I was hurting. I managed to inspect the whole place but no presence of another human being was detected.

And then I remembered. It was Mister X. It was you Mister X who broke into me and dispersed all those glassy bits and pieces all over me. And now Mister X my feet are bleeding. I cannot stand properly. I cannot step properly. I cannot move properly.

Having said that, I believe it is only fair to ask- or even demand- for compensation. It is the least I can ask from you dear Sir.

I thank you in advance and look forward to hearing from you as soon as possible.

Kind regards,

Madam X.

Terrifying and Beautiful

Terrifying and beautiful. I’ll take both, thanks.

“Please, Sir, may I order? Can I have a dish of fear, a dish of dare and a dish of beauty, please?

You know Sir, the other day I went to a restaurant all by myself. I was not really hungry, but really hungry I was. (Not for food.) So, I ordered. I ordered- as I just did- a dish of fear, a dish of dare and a dish of beauty (please). And the waiter looked straight into my eyes and said to me: ‘Do you think my dear lady that if we had these dishes you ask for that I would be working here?’ And then he laughed and left and I left too. So here I am dear Sir, ready to order a dish of fear, a dish of dare and a dish of beauty- please.”

“My dear sweet lady, really, do you think that if we had these dishes that you ask for that I would be working here?” he said. And then he laughed and left and I left too.

Still, very hungry. Very hungry. Indeed.