My dear Master, it's your birthday again. And we must celebrate it by enjoying your writing.
Excerpt
And, at the same time, someone hit me with a shovel. Luckily, it was made
of wood. The shovel, not the head.
“Ay!” I cried in
pain, strongly rubbing the crown of my head.
“Why ay?” … “Aren’t
you glad to see me?”
I immediately recognized the voice of my aunt Ralitza.
Confused about her
demand, being that she actually expected I could see her while being in total opacity, and
after she had hit me in the head, but also due to her unexpected apparition, I
kept silence for a moment.
“What’s with you
here?” I yelled after a while, as high as I could, in order to let my aunt know
about my whereabouts, but also afraid that I might get hit again.
“Well, boy, how
could you ask such a question?” the voice of aunt Ralitza reached me, because I
couldn’t see her still.
“Wasn’t I supposed to be worried about your situation,
yours and your wife’s, when I saw how much it snowed all night last night? …
That’s why I came here, to clear you of snow! …”
“All the way from
the Vergului barrier?” I wondered, not believing my ears.
“Exactly and
precise!” my aunt informed me. “And I brought two shovels with me…”
“Why two?”
“Because that was
what I needed! One, of wood, to remove the snow, and the other one, of iron, to
remove the ice… Isn't it technical?...”
Being really glad that she
used the first one she mentioned, and not the other one, with which she could have
broken my head, I congratulated myself for having such an aunt. More so, because this kind of people aren’t so easy to find. Especially, since the old lady already passed
the age of seventy.
This while the people living in our block of flats had
plenty of years to go until their retirement, but slept just fine at the moment.
Way to go, people!
