By Carsten René Nielsen
Translated by David Keplinger
At night things become ever so smaller, our shoes and teeth, too, and everywhere in buildings screws turn a quarter of a revolution, but even if you press your ear against the wall, the sound is rarely heard. Always there is someone who plays the gelatin piano, someone who packs his pipe with snow, and on a radio channel from somewhere in the world, where the sun is already on its way up through the mist in the horizon: a gospel choir of hoarse, nearly inaudible women.
We did a bunch of chores on Saturday, including moving a shelf unit down the basement. Then we took Adam (driven by Daniel) to get new running shoes and sneakers, and I had a small crisis because all jewelry in The Icing was for sale for $5 or less, but I managed to spend under $30 and got the nautical bracelet and necklace anyway.
Paul's parents were in town, unfortunately for the funeral of someone they'd known for many years, but it meant that we got to have dinner with them. We went to Grand Fusion, the Chinese-Thai restaurant where the three of us who eat vegetarian can get awesome tofu and the other three can get awesome chicken and seafood.
After Paul's parents went home, Adam went to work on accounting homework and the rest of us (along with Cheryl long distance) watched The Addams Family and Addams Family Values -- it had been forever and I needed an Anjelica fix! Now I need a penguin fix, so here are the ones at the Maryland Zoo in Baltimore: