The parrot squawks, “Smell like crrrap, farrrt, farrrt, farrrt.” “You’re silly,” Aunt Elvira tells me. “He’s a sweet bird and would never say anything inappropriate.” Aunt Elvira is my favorite human but she forgets a lot, and her hearing is worse every day. Sometimes she calls me Vlado. That was her husband, who used to
Tag: dark humour
When I was four, I drew a stick man. A long figure in black crayon, with spider-like hands and a featureless round head, he stood on jagged grass like the blade of a saw, while behind him a yellow ball shone bright lines into the sky. Mum was thrilled when I gave her the picture.