Gospa iz opečnate hiše / Lady from a brick house
Nekoč je v majhni opečnati hišici na robu mesta živela gospa Marija. Na oknih je imela rožnate zavese, v dnevni sobi šivalni stroj in velik pleten koš poln volne ob gugalnem stolu. Na kavču je ležala pletena odeja, v katero se je zavila, ko je ob hladnih večerih brala knjigo.
Nekega dne pa je mala opečnata hiša ostala prazna. Šivalni stroj je sameval in rože na vrtu so prerasle kamnito stezico.
Naslednje poletje so hišo kupili tuji ljudje. Na vrtu se je naselil smeh otrok, ki je odmeval po praznih sobah. Vse Marijine reči so odnesli v velik zaboj pred hišo. Dež je spral prah s starega šivalnega stroja, knjige so se napile vode in pletena odeja je privabila potepuške mačke.
.... gospa Marija je izmišljena oseba, a na pločniku sosednje ulice v resnici stoji velik zabojnik z najrazličnejšimi predmeti, ki so pritegnili mojo pozornost. Tam so bili platnen senčnik nočne lučke, velika rjava steklenica, knjige, stari šiviljski kroji, vreča z volnenim škotskim blagom in navodili za izdelavo krila. Žiga ni bil najbolj navdušen nad mojim brskanjem po smeteh, ampak, kako naj bi pustila kroje in blago na dežju? Nemogoče. Zagotovo bi se mi priplazili v sanje in me celo noč strašili... Tako pa so na varnem, toplem in suhem. Gospa Marija je lahko mirna.
Once upon a time there was Lady Mary who lived in a small brick house on the edge of the city. There were flowerly curtains on the windows, a sewing machine and a big bucket full with wool in the living room. A lovely woollen blanket was lying on the sofa. Lady Mary covered herself with it while she read books on cold evenings.
One day the brick house became quiet and empty. A sewing machine was solitary in a courner and flowers in the garden covered the narrow path.
Next summer a new family came into the house. Children's laughter filled the empty rooms. All the things that once belonged to lady Mary were lumped outside. Rain washed the dust from the old sewing machine, books were soaked and the woollen blanket allured vagrant cats.
...lady Mary is an imaginery figure, but on the pavement of our street is a big dustbin full of very interesting thinks. Žiga was not very happy seeing me rummage around the bin, but how could I leave all the vintage patterns and wollen Scottish fabric on the rain. I bet they would all come and haunted me all night. Instead, they are inside, safe and warm. Lady Mary can enjoy her life, whereever she is.
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lp m.