"I don’t like it in the country, it’s ugly, it’s green and it’s boring!"
"Leonard, you can’t say that! It’s wonderful in the country!" said Mum.
"That’s right, all children love it in the country," said Dad.
"Well, not me."
At the weekend, what my parents like to do above all is drink tea in front of an open fire, listening to the silence. They call this country life. It’s horrible.
Me, what I like to do is walk on the pavement, jump on benches, go to the cinema, and run after the pigeons. In the country there’s nothing to do, except: admire. It’s the same as being bored, but with your eyes wide open.
So I’m allowed to get bored in front of the open fire, the ducks, the hens, the trees and sometimes the tractors, which go by in slow motion.
When Dad and Mum aren’t drinking tea around the fire like cavemen, they take me for a walk. Most of the time it’s raining, it makes your feet hurt and it makes you thirsty. It’s worse than anything.
But last weekend, something finally happened.
"Look how beautiful it is!" said Mum.
"It’s not beautiful, it’s green," I said.
"That’s because of all the rain," said Dad.
"Yes, it rains all the time," I said.
"What about taking this track?" said Mum.?A track is a street without shops, and with grass in the middle, stones that make you twist your ankles, and stinging nettles at the sides.
My parents love walking along tracks they don’t know. They say they’re magical places.
Mum said:?"I’m sure there are hens on this track."
"Seeing all these animals running free – it’s really heart-warming," said Dad.
Me, I thought of the tigers, the bears and the monkeys that are printed on my duvet, and I stepped into a big puddle.
Copyright © 2015 by Colas Gutman. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
