I wandered into the kitchen, and there, was an old man sitting at a large table sorrounded by a full breakfast. He held a banana, like you would a handgun,…
Author: Nils Erwin
Nils submitted this piece in 2004 with a link to his webpage "under the floor" which is no longer available.***
Here's an "about me" excerpt from his long lost webpage: ***
"Shortly after I was born it came as quite a startle to my then already beleaguered parents (they had wanted a girl who could sew), that I would speak fluent spanish. My first words were: "Dónde está el tocador? Necesito refrescar para arriba." Which roughly translated means: "Where is the toilet, I need to freshen up." Fearing that I had some incredible gift, or even worse, that I was channeling a homosexual spanish immigrant, my parents paid a vagrant to drop me down a manhole along with a satchel of dried food with the hopes that I might surface one day quite normal and ready to join society again. Fortuitously, this tuned out to completely unnecessary, for as swiftly as I picked up the dialect, it abandoned me, and I returned to the normal incoherence of a baby."
