Not an earthy thing

Keys to room doors have been long lost. Which was by no means a problem since no one would even think to lock a room.

House etiquette was to knock on a closed door, wait for positive answer than come in. Or assume the occupant was sleeping and come back later.

Nevertheless despite being home alone I wedged a chair beneath the door handle of my room.



Fetch the scissors. Gently cut the plastic ribbon that kept the white bag closed. Spread it open...

On occasions I've had a sip of wine. Didn't like the taste nor the feeling of lightness it induced.

The lightness that was slowly gaining over me was different. Soft, cozy, a delicate breeze of comfort and sweetness.

Naphthalene smell. Surreal. Whatever mom intended to give away to charity was been well taken care of.

Beyond doubts the tongue of that soft reassuring voice was English. It was now close and clear and to my surprise I was not anymore puzzled by it's presence.

Könnten Sie bitte auf Französisch oder Deutsch sprechen?  Surprisingly she answered. It was a negation. She ?

Panic. Something was very wrong. Voice out of nowhere. Pink lights out of nowhere. What about if a ghost had invaded my existence ?

She got more insistent. Dissolving my panic. Scanned the room. Sweet mid-morning sun filtering thru the curtains. Was there a reason to be scared ? No. Curious ?

First item that I removed from the bag was a dress. One I never remember to have seen mom in. Looked fragile, shiny and quite heavy.

Several intriguing items of substantial or airy fabrics and lace.

Blouses, a skirt.

And a garment of unusual structure. A white vest with long sleeves and a multiplicity of sturdy straps all over.

This one I recognized. Seen it in movies. The kind of jacket used on crazy nasty criminals. In our household ?

That mystery prevailed for years and thwarted all my hypothesis. Until the day when a good friend of mom had surgery. They chatted on the phone and I could catch some words.

Happens that long ago mom had also a "nose job". To avoid scratching the itchy scars overnight she was prescribed a straightjacket and dad had to help her with that... -Suffer for beauty, mom laughed.

Suddenly I went in full conscious mode. Those whatsits on my bed required further knowledge.

Where from ? Shops had them on display. Could I walk in and ask ? No way. The "Quelle" mail order catalog? Yes.