My Bird

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110 43 I don’t write Amir about highways and the new construction . Neither do I write about the supermarket that drove away the customers from the very beginning. I write about me and the world around me, about every corner of our new house. I write about the landlord, and Shahin and Shadi who are growing up and becoming sweet. You can hear Shadi’s voice from every corner of the house. She talks, sings, and makes up stories. You can hear her singing even when she is in the bathroom washing her hands. Shahin says he is the man of the house, and everybody should obey him. He puts on Amir’s winter hat. Wears his coat and walks around the room. Shadi laughs hard. “I order you . . .” He turns to me and doesn’t know what orders to give. His finger is left in the air. “I order that . . .” Shadi joins him and gives orders too. Unclear orders are floating over my head. Shahin screams. He has found an order after all. “I order you to laugh.” You can’t disobey an order given with so much effort. I laugh. To follow his next order, I get up and we chase each M Y B I R D | 111 other and play. At night I feel like a queen with my devoted ministers sleeping by my side. I continue writing to Amir. I write that we are all well, and he’d better not misbehave like the kids. He should stay there till the end of the winter and finish his job. ...