Journey A school is a kind of monster with a belly full of children In the morning it gobbles children up and in the after noon it spits them all out again Me included I walk home taking care when I cross the road Autumn leaves aren’t careful they cross over without looking left or right I open my palms wide to try and catch whirling golden leaves Hey Jesje Lienke the girl from next door bikes past laughing Hey I call back quickly before looking down hopefully hopefully at my hands Completely empty I balance on the edge of the sidewalk The wind teases me and I lose my balance One foot in the sea help I quickly pull it back onto the sidewalk A tall tree grows in the small square next to our house It stands guard Come sun rain wind snow it is there Come anger fear joy sadness it is there I wave to it Its windswept crown waves back I step onto the red gravel of our driveway When you walk on it it sounds like you’re crunching on a cookie I stand in front of the sliding door at the back of the 3
house that lets you enter through the garden and see myself reflected in the glass An eleven year old girl gray green eyes slight build with a pale face and long dark hair Slowly I slide the door open 4
Doorbell I know straightaway that Mama is home because I can hear the curtain of music she’s drawn around herself She puts Mozart on the CD player whenever she’s had enough of the outside world Sometimes she closes the actual drapes as well making the daylight dis appear If she could she would let the world dissolve like sugar in warm tea As soon as I come inside I put my coat on a chair to the left under the stairs With both hands I close the sliding door The dining room which merges into the living room is full of things each with its own story books everywhere fossils antique glass in all different colors a small silver mirror a little traveling alarm clock that never travels any where pictures paintings and a music box The music box belongs to Bomma We haven’t had it very long When Bomma wasn’t able to stay in her own apartment in Antwerp any longer she moved to the nursing home in our town She had to get rid of nearly all her things even her own bed but she held on to the Flemish name for grandmother Bomma Hello I call out I’m on the landing Mama calls back 5
