Summer holidays, great emptiness, great freedom, boredom, excitement, infatuation, outdoor pool, campground, happiness, misfortune. For “Holiday Flicker” series, writers and writers have remembered most important six weeks of ir youth. On Lutz Seiler, María Cecilia now follows bed.
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Los Tuyos y los Míos – that’s how my bror and I described play mobile figures that we split up with each or. In name of Justitia, goddess of justice, for clear relationships, we procured a roof over head of respective surrogate family. With overturned chairs we built modernist houses, necessary furniture with building blocks.
The scene played out day after day between one and three o’clock, during holy Siesta, which our mor and her testimony kept to entire neighborhood. Their pupils, intimidated rebels, were allowed to kill time of midday rest in living room, provided y were quiet and respectful.
In way we spent our school holidays, which stretched like chewing gum from December to March, accompanied by hellish heat and incontestable chirping of cicadas, which could not silence any maternal law. Even though most of us were in danger of becoming paralyzed, we did not think of laying ourselves on lazy skin.
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Yours and mine also held position. They made each or ir waiting, coffee and served biscuits, while we, ir belly speakers, switcheded towards wall with increasing skepticism in order to trace weary of clock from corners of eyes. The hands stuck on disk like branches on trees. Nothing stirred. That is how eternity must feel – of which my bror and I were convinced that we yesteryear with yawning boredom return of same, until we plunged point three jubilant into freedom, headlong into overheated paddling pool which our Far Beginning of Argentine summer from hibernation of our underground garage had torn to place it instead of a fountain of youth in middle of garden.
Half a life later, when divorce of my parents was decided, disagreements between US siblings Unbridgeable appeared and a buyer for family house was brought, I returned from Germany to Buenos Aires to my Children and youth rooms. Little was saved in vortex of events. In one of toy crates that stacked in trunk to be driven to Caritas, I noticed at last minute a waving arm and some building blocks furr a stretched leg.
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I fished out two figures and found that y had healed all hardships. Unlike us, y looked like y used to, but I still could not have said wher it was yours or mine that drove my tears into my eyes. I cried silently in front of me, looking feverishly for Köfferchen and cap, wicker and sun-hat, to equip everlasting, as good as it went, this small, big piece of summer happiness that should accompany me to or end of world.
All follow all episodes of “Holiday Flicker”
1. Angelika Klüssendorf: Saisonkellnerkinder2. Lutz Seiler: in basement of eye clinic3. María Cecilia:The Yours and minewill appear soon texts by: Marion PoschmannPeter
