I used to hear the word Burglary as Burberry and I still don't
associate it with what happened that night. Not really. It makes me
think of keys and doors and windows. It makes me imagine you coming out
from the bedroom naked and confused, suddenly doomed to be a man. And
you are! So naturally a man. But you never held a sword. Even worse: the
woman and the children here act like you had, like you were an expert,
we feel safe when you are at home. What a weight to put on you!
What
happened that night was silent. We went to bed, we were alone, the
children were supposed to come home later, we didn't lock the door, we
made love, without being silent. Because we were alone, expected to be
alone. We were happy while we were burgled. My iPad and some cash,
that's all. We found out in the morning, the children were still asleep
and we looked at each other, for a moment we shared the same thought,
reconstructing our moment together, and then I continued by myself, I
think, relieved that you weren't pushed to dig up a sword you have never
held.
