Love Life

About this book

He was not my father and not my mother so why did he open the door of their house to me, filling the narrow space with his body, squeezing the door handle, and I began to retreat, I must have mistaken the floor, but the decorated plate insists that it is their house, at least it was their house, and in a weak voice I asked, what's happened to my parents, and he opened his big, gray mouth wide, nothing's happened to them, Ya'ara, my name fluttered in h is mouth like a fish in a net, and I burst inside, my arm brushing against his cold, smooth arm, crossed the empty living room, and opened the closed door of their bedroom.