I'm writing from my parents' home. It was a spontanuos decision to ride overe here and I am glad I did it, though it was hard to leave my honey alone. Oh well, I guess we will both manage two days apart. For those who know our story... ;).
It's nice here. I always loved my parents' house, though I failed to feel at home here for years...well, I guess, since I first moved out.
My former room has changed, it is my parents' new bed room now. It has a large new TV set and some new furniture. Luckily my books are still here, and I can throw myself into memories by going over some of the favourite lectures of my teenage.
There's (though not on the same spot I left it, shit!) Le rouge et le noir, 1984, Shogun and Vaterland, The Remains of The Day and Lord of The Flies, Obscenitatea publica and (of course, a hundred time of course) Quo Vadis, some Mark Twain and some Charles Dickens (although I always hated Dickens). And some of the new ones, When Nietzshe Wept, a lot of Agatha Christie, my God, how far away those days seem right now!
Mum and dad are gone for some hours and I listen to some music channel and ride the PC.
....
Mum and dad are back. Mum looked at all the clothes and the books I spread through my (former) (OH, ALL THE MESS!!!) room and raised an eyebrow: what is all around here???? I answered: Me, mum!
She grinned. Luckily, some things never change.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment