2012. november 3., szombat

Vera Pavlova: 3

On his back, on Grandma’s bed, my brother was flailing his tiny legs.
He’s gonna fall, i thought. But he would not.
Why isn’t he falling? I wondered. He was flailing his legs.
He’s gotta fall! Pulled him by the legs closer to the edge.
Still would not fall. Pulled some more. He was flailing his legs.
Pulled a bit more. With a horrific crash he fell head down, the dummy,
and bawled so loud that Grandma came running:
Who left the baby unattended? – I said: Mom did.
But not out loud, trembling in the dark under Grandma’s bed.

Nincsenek megjegyzések:

Megjegyzés küldése