Living Room. ORANGE ALERT.
If I told you about my day today, I wonder, would you be shocked, interested or indifferent. I came to work early. It was an unwelcoming cold morning. I went out and got 36 oranges. 19 of them I wrapped around with white rope, one escaped.
At first, one has to make a cross out of 2 pieces of rope and make a knot in the middle. After that, you have to be careful- put the orange right on top of the knot and connect opposite ends of the rope once and then, take the other two ends of the rope and also tie the knot. Knot number 2 can be tightened more firmly. When you start, you will probably lose either the rope, or the orange might slip away but then, comes this wonderful understanding of the rope itself and then of the orange. I pinned them on the wall.
Do you think 18 oranges is good enough work for one day?
Letter 2. Oct. 21st
You know, the whole time you are away, I occupied myself with this rug making. Dear God, it took me so long! And the thread I got was so expensive and brightly colored. Too bad you won’t see this in the picture. I bought the finest Italian yarn, the seller is such a cheapskate,it cost a fortune! I know you won’t be mad at me- It is so lovely!
Kisses and hugs to my pumpkin- peach pie, my sweet lullaby, my monster, my tender mouse and my brave lion, my little bird’s shit that smeared over my windshield so I can’t see anything clearly anymore,
Do you remember my grandmother? Well, she passed away. You know, I have not seen her in years. She was such impossible woman. She arrived to this country on a boat with sails. She divorced her first husband because once, they were in a Chinese restaurant and he brought her a rose. At the end of the dinner they both got fortune cookies, hers said ” Every rose has a thorn”. That was the end of that story.
She never got rid of her thick accent and never bothered with the articles which made her speech punchy. Sometimes she would omit them altogether from her tongue. Articles are indeed a mystery. Coming back to the article we have inherited. I am not too crazy about the design, but it’s nice and sturdy. It is actually a love seat and it fits perfectly with the picture you got last year.
I miss you dearly,
My darling, you are asking about my addiction to oranges. I have to say, I think it will kill me one day but I cannot stop. I wake up all dizzy and cranky and I still stuff myself up with the oranges. Should I see a doctor?
PS The picture you got fits perfectly above the couch. It looks wonderful.
It is my order of things. First thing I do, is start the fireplace. Then I open the blinds to see what is it like outside. I don’t open them right away. I look through the gap and if what I see, is pleasing enough through the crack, I go ahead and lift it fully. Hope the weather in England is fine.
Come back soon,
Falling asleep here is such a drag. Night noises (the machinery has an automatic control and the rumbling that comes with it, is awful), strange smells- oil and glue always make me confused in the morning. At night, it is often, that I have a visitor who always comes unannounced. He is deaf and mute. Strangely, he comes when I have music on. He always looks up to examine one particular corner where the wall meets the ceiling. Ceilings are so high that there is no sense of comfort in this space. I wake up disoriented not knowing where am I and where do I belong. You know hope and despair are of the same kind; they both arrive when one has no more control.
Much love to you and the crickets,
This letter was found on the floor in the living room. It was torn into pieces.
Puff! Puff my way! Pif-paf!.........
Come shenanigans, come players and villains, come the dumbest of the dumb…
…..tepid waters, cool winds, full sails….
….. getting rid of the spells, blacks and oranges! Outta here!
To whom it may concern,
We thoroughly researched the whereabouts of the “Living Room” upon your request. Regrettably, the “Living Room“ was never found, and can only be reconstructed based on the letters and pictures you have sent us.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.