At the sound of the door, two small shadows make their way towards us. “ Ah! You’re a cat woman.” Samuel’s big sweater fills my tiny hall. He places a messenger bag onto the saddle of my bicycle. He squats down, big fingers plucking through the white fur. “That one is diabetic,” A wide smile crosses his face. “So was mine! You give it insulin too?” [...]
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My mother is sitting on the floor, in her pyjamas, with a broken arm and a flu that just cleared up. A nest of children’s drawings, photos and wooden statues surrounds her: souvenirs from our life in Africa, in the 70’s. Large piles of books are stacked in a second circle. They originally occupied the shelf that we cleared, but now they’re cluttering the floor. We are making an Africa exhibition. [...] |
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Copyright 2011 L.S. Harteveld. Design by AlfaBetty, code by Valentijn |
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