PART ONE
The history of aviation is a propeller shrieking in his head: a blade that lacerates the past into a million random cells. But sometimes the mayhem shudders to a halt, and words - each one a hammerblow on steel - fill the darkened room.
“The first aeroplane flight lasted for twelve seconds.”
Blankets stir on the floor. A young woman rubs her eyes and folds the outstretched arms.
“What are we going to do with you at all? Shush now, it's OK, I'm right here beside you....”
She kisses his forehead and returns to the mattress; watches in horror as the arms unfold into silent, rigid wings.
* * *
“Please, Daddy, just one more little spoon.”
Her eyes close in frustration as the food dribbles down his chin.
“Now, there you are. I'll just tuck in your hands and you'll be as snug
as a bug in a rug.”
She props him against the pillows and, cursing the voice in her head,
the voice that sneers USELESS USELESS USELESS, points around the
room.
“Look, there's all your books. Virgil, Homer, Sophocles… Look, I brought them all, every single one. They're not in order yet, but I'm going to fix them up. I'll have them exactly the way you like them. And look, I have a surprise for you. What do you think?”
Stepping into the middle of the room, she sashays like a little girl.
“What do you think, Daddy? Does the colour suit me? I was very lucky to get it. It was the last one in the store.”
USELESS. USELESS. USELESS. continue
* * *
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