Moving along the driveway, one turn to the right, two to the left and then straight ahead along the Boxwood hedge, the house will appear.



The coffin with her body is carried out by four grandsons. The car that will bring her body to her last resting-place is parked in front of the door. Some people are crying. Most of them are dressed in black. Just at that very moment the newspaper boy cycles up the driveway, listening to music, earphones are plugged into his ears and like newspaper boys are, in a rush to finish the job. He realizes he is crossing four people holding a coffin. He hesitates what to do and quickly stuffs the newspaper into the letterbox.








In the morning a cat sat there, in the empty garden and I was standing in front of the window for a long time while I watched him. I don’t think he was aware of my presence.
For a long time he meditated in between the long grass, in total silence. I could see him from the side, his upper body and head appearing.



The windowsill is covered by dead ladybirds.

Why do ladybirds die on their back?









The bed is covered by dead flies and dried up earth.

I try to sleep.
The house creaks.


I can’t sleep.