Thursday, January 2, 2014

Chapter 6

Our home life gradually deteriorates. It has never felt like heaven, with some dreaded chores awaiting me daily - the cleanup of our mound being just one of them - but it is slowly becoming something resembling purgatory, with some forays into hell. To begin with, "my" tiny room is not fully mine - it's also my father's storage room, where he keeps stuff he does not want prominently displayed in the "big room"; his "library", where a large cabinet holds rows of books, all neatly wrapped in butcher paper, so that it is impossible to tell which is which; his dressing room, where one of the two chairs is permanently taken by the suit and shirt he wears to work.

[Due to its somewhat sensitive nature, the rest of this chapter is available by request only.]

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