"Owls are not what they seem"
Midnight. Few minutes past.
And I’m still waiting. For the letter.
That you promised.
I hate timetables
I don’t like schedules
And my thoughts just become a knot of wires.
I hear the sound of green –
It’s my old clock.
It’s late. It’s early.
I don’t know now…
I click my fingers more and more
So loud, to make the mist be gone forever
The mist, the fog that made me blind
I click and click and click…
The sleep just killed me.
A headless dream.
– Chatty Owl –
I baked a pie – naughty like my thoughts about you. Cherries reminded me of your long fingers and nuts spoke about your merits for me. I wanted to see your face in those sugar cubes, but they have melted down – just like your compliments for me. I wanted to taste your opinion about me, but it has evaporated like a bottle of perfume. I was biting the pie bit by bit from every angle and spitting it back on the plate – just like wine tasting. And then I realised it’s stupid – a pie is not that sophisticated as good wine.
Next time I’ll bake a pie that will have a taste of you and I will drink it in one go. Like cough syrup.
– Chatty Owl has left the building –
I got a pear out of my bag and had a bite. My manager is watching me for a couple of minutes and asks:
– Do you eat the pear with a core?
I stare at him like he has lost his mind. Of course I eat the pear with a core! Who doesn’t?!
– Oh. You’re just like my mom, it must be a european thing, – he thinks out loud.
– Oh, your mom is not from around here? Where is she from? – I got interested.
– Germany.
– She’s German! – I shout in excitement without realizing it. And then I feel stupid.
– Are you OK? Why so happy? – he laughs.
– Oh no no, nothing, sorry. I just like Germans.
He doesn’t need to know about my German fetish and stupid interest in Hitler…
– Chatty Owl has left the building –
If I were a finch, I would sit on your neighbour’s roof and shit on his tulips. And you couldn’t say anything, the flowers are not yours! I would gawk at all your four windows and I would screech in a loud horrible manner. And you know, when you’d want to show off in front off your uncle and fry him two lots of potatoes with those stinky onions, I would hop so hard on the roof, that all onions would jump out of the pan. Hell yeah, not only the neighbour would laugh, but the tulips too. The ones on the right.
And you know, when you’ll be eating your porridge with a wooden spoon two days from now and you’ll be thinking how to get your revenge on me, I’ll be already on the roof on the other side of the village and won’t remember either the tulips or the stink of those onions.
– Chatty Owl has left the building –
CHATTYOWL 