Twenty-three

My name is Todd, I am nine years old, and I have been told twenty-three times that I am “excessively innovative”. Whatever that means! I live in a small country, in a small province, in a small city that flashes green and blue twenty-three times every Saturday at 11:11. My mother is a baker as well as the Spanish super-hero Veintitrés and my father manages money. Harshly indifferent, they manage to live their lives without any acknowledgment of me because I am not an essential part of their social lives. I have no siblings, no pets (except for the odd fly that chooses to accompany me), and no friends that I am aware of. Writing is a passion of mine that helps me to effortlessly and evasively escape from this broken down shack apartment on this broken down street that has no other kids my age. I may be “excessively innovative”, but at least my world is always exciting.

My next-door neighbor lives in house smaller then ours but not nearly as well lived-in. She drives a black convertible, which is only there for half of the year. After the snow has melted she slides into its leather seats and takes off without any luggage and does not return until six months later; no more, no less. On the days when she is home she wakes up at seven o’clock everyday to walk her pet Affenpinscher down our street until I can no longer see her around the corner. As she walks, her tight black leather boots click and clack on the sidewalk as her dark green leather coat camouflages into her surroundings. She is one of twenty-three administrators on the Board of Uzbekistan Espionage and a spy in our country. I always feel more relaxed when I cannot see her shifty convertible sitting idly on our street because I do not trust that it is not constantly watching me.

The man on our right is an inept old man who never comes out of his house. He sits by his window and fantasizes about the glory days and the life he never had. Sleeping and eating are oblivious to him as I have never seen him move from his staring point. He never moves, period. His twenty-three rabbits keep him company and escort him into his dream world. Listening intensely, I am sometimes able to hear their purrs at night and pray that one-day I would be able to look upon their beauty because it is said to be like that of a radiant angel. I have only seen his granddaughter once and that was at a café my dad took me to for a treat. My name is Todd, I am twenty-two, and tomorrow I am marrying that inept old man’s granddaughter. I pray that one day I will be able to move past the childhood I never had and finally turn twenty-three.