Rabbit, Soldier, Angel, Thief - by Katrina Nannestad

I pull my hand from beneath the sheets and open it. Feathers. So many feathers! I smile, glad that my mission was a success. Ever since the lieutenant brought Sergeant Stepanov the pillow three days ago, I have wanted the feathers from inside. I have needed the feathers. I don’t know why, but I had to get them. I sniff them. Brush them across my face. Rub them between my fingers. Then I tuck them beneath my pillow. Later, when everyone’s asleep, I’ll climb out of bed and stuff them into the hole I’ve made in my mattress, together with all the other things I have stolen.

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