TE15 Lithuanian Honey Cake

The Grand Piano Room

in mind) I used to work in the living room. But why? How could I? ‘You know that there is no other space for it.’ She said it as if it were obvious. She accepted the reality of the situation in the same way that it would be accepted by any soberly-thinking person. Just whose reality? I headed towards the bedroom. There was no need to inspect the woodwork room: if it had still been there, I would have set up my office in it. Anywhere at all, just not in the living room. I inspected every corner of the bedroom in an attempt to understand the situation I had found myself in. It wasn’t long before I came across my turning bench: it was in the wardrobe, behind the coats! This proved that in this reality I was still myself, with all my needs. I was still the same me, just a lamentable version. What had changed was that now I had a windowsill in the bedroom to fasten my lathe to instead of my woodwork room. The paint on it was peeling. Was it worth living? 5 Meanwhile, the others went on with their lives without asking any questions. And that was fully understandable. Nobody, apart fromme, seemed to know anything about the grand piano room, the studio or the woodwork room


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