March 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
The sun was shinning stunningly bright that morning as she was pouring herself a glass of red orange juice. The pack said the juice was made from real argentinian oranges. Do they have not real oranges there, in Argentina?, she wondered. She took her usual place over the kitchen table and looked through the window thinking of whether the sun shines the same way for somebody else, or whether orange juice tastes as good for somebody else as for her. She wondered, but it didn’t matter what she wondered about. She had thoughts, but it didn’t matter what thoughts had she. Everybody else had thoughts at the same moment and some of them even had the same as her. What a horrible thing, she thought. The straw began to make funny sounds that meant the glass was empty. She always drank any liquid with a straw. She didn’t like her lips touching a cold, lifeless object.