In every way I endeavored to make her more comfortable every time she placed her weight on my chair. Whenever she became tired from sitting long in one position on my humble person, I would slowly move my knees and embrace her more warmly, making her more snug. And when she dozed off to sleep, I would move my knees ever so softly to rock her into a deeper slumber.
Somehow, possibly by a miracle (or was it just my imagination?) this lady now seemed to love my chair deeply, for every time she sat down, she acted like a baby falling into a mother’s embrace or a girl surrendering herself into the arms of her lover. And when she moved herself about in the chair, I felt that she was feeling an almost amorous joy. In this way, the fire of my love and passion rose into a leaping flame that could never be extinguished, and I finally reached a stage where I simply had to make a strange, bold plea.
Ultimately I began to feel that if she would just look at me, even for a brief passing moment, I could die with the deepest contentment.
No doubt, Madam, by this time you must certainly have guessed who the object of my mad passion is. To put it explicitly, she happens to be none other than yourself, Madam! Ever since your husband brought the chair from that furniture store, I have been suffering excruciating pains because of my mad love and longing for you. I am but a worm . . . a loathsome creature.
I have but one request. Could you meet me once, just once? I will ask nothing further of you. I, of course, do not deserve your sympathy, for I have always been nothing but a villain, unworthy even to touch the soles of your feet. But if you will grant me this one request, just out of compassion, my gratitude will be eternal.
Last night I stole out of your residence to write this confession because even leaving aside the danger, I did not possess the courage to meet you suddenly face to face, without any warning or preparation.
While you are reading this letter, I will be roaming around your house with bated breath. If you will agree to my request, please place your handkerchief on the pot of flowers that stands outside your window. At this signal, I will open your front door and enter as a humble visitor. . . .
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Human Chair
Misterio / SuspensoA self proclaimed master chair maker creates a chair that he himself is astonished by, so much that he contorts the inside of the chair to fit his body inside of it. He uses a letter to a woman named Yoshiko as a way to confess his crimes.
