[just a burning piece] What did I thought when I listened to The Caretaker

Front yard, front porch, door, rug, television large as a medium cardboard box with only black and white, chairs, firewood burning in the wall niche, blind lowered hindering the sunlight.

Quite unusual. Someone is supposed to be here, your father or mother. The gramophone keeps repeating relatively low-quality music.

Are they lying in the chairs falling asleep?

You lift the blanket, but only the scarf your mom loves most is lying on the chair.

It's a 3 p.m. summer day, why is she not at home and left that scarf on the chair?

The gramophone sounds weird, is that broken?

The chair is stretched and squeezed.

Dream. The house is burned.

And you are still alive.

Where are dad and mom?

Where am I?

White ceiling, people with white clothes, a white bed, and an old man's hand.