Cartoons for a dying sun
Usually, there is an old man in a window in one of the flats opposite. Daily, he leans out with old sad eyes behind vaguely tinted glasses, puffing distractedly on one after another of his cigarettes. Gazing defeatedly along the street as though something was lost a long time ago, he remembers only the loss itself and not the object.
Today the window sits closed, newly clean. Behind, a little girl: blonde locked, innocently enigmatic, sweetly charming and decked in white - with frills.
For a few months now I have been that man; I await my little girl. I feel that she will come soon.
Today the window sits closed, newly clean. Behind, a little girl: blonde locked, innocently enigmatic, sweetly charming and decked in white - with frills.
For a few months now I have been that man; I await my little girl. I feel that she will come soon.