What Do You Want?
When I entered Michelle's apartment while it was under transition, it seemed that the disorder has just proclaimed: "Veni, vidi, vici." And it is not simply that it ruled, it had an omnipresent rule.
Little Jonathan was in a hurry to face the urgent task ahead of us, and took out a toy hammer and nail from his little toolbox.
My pincers, meant to pull out the bent nails from the large bookcase intended for the large living room of the apartment that is "worth millions" like every other simple apartment in Tel Aviv, I laid in the wrong place. Jonathan managed to pick them up just in time for the heavy metal tool to land swiftly on his thigh.
Do you want maybe to talk to Mommy on the phone? You want us to take a walk? Maybe a chocolate candy?
All my questions attempting to distract him were to no avail…
So what do you want?
Left in the closet,
The blue woolen coat near the black,