Trafika Europe 11 - Swiss Delights
There was yet another game. An old lilac tree stands in the farthest corner of the garden, where Grandfather took short naps on Sundays. Show me your teeth, the child would ask. Grandfather would take his large black wallet from his trouser pocket. Very slowly and gravely. Then he would peel a small packet of tissue paper from the soft leather. The rustling always gave the child goose bumps. Therewere five long yellowteeth. Asmany asGrandfather had gaps in his mouth. The child was allowed to hold the long yellow deer teeth—it made her shudder a little every time and she ducked her head in between her shoulders. When you’re old, Grandfather would say as he wrapped the teeth back up in tissue paper, you don’t need as many teeth. You have to bite when you’re young. Afterwards it’s too late, he would add, looking up at the crown of the lilac tree. He sat with his hands on his thighs. A green grasshopper crawled over his left hand and hopped onto the child’s lap. Why are your hands so big?, the child asked. Because your grandmother’s breasts are so big. They have to fit, one in each hand.
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