years he spent in Australia and had polished it brand new. The only problem was his telltale accent. However, Celal was not certain as to whether his three and a half minutes younger brother actually failed to get rid of his accent or deliberately kept it intact thinking the customers liked it more this way.
‘He ate and ate, then got up stretching. The animal had turned into a giant stomach! He couldn’t even walk, dragging along that tummy. We dashed after him, following him outside where he jumped on the wall of this side garden…and what a jump! He had become so heavy that his belly got caught and he almost fell down. We thought he would curl up somewhere and sleep for at least two days. No way! Instead he leaped to the other side of the wall. You know those garbage bags they leave there? Alas, we live in a garbage dump! Anyway this one had found a bunch of fish heads. I honestly have no idea what else he could have eaten that day. We felt sick as we watched him, you know. I swear I have been frightened of this cat ever since that day. We’ve heard a lot about cats who eat their owners when hungry but this Garbage here, he could gobble all of us down even when full. What’s more, I bet he would polish it all off with what he finds in the garbage!’
‘I swear he’s understood all we’ve been saying about him,’ exclaimed the plump gingerhead with a frozen face, afraid ofgetting wrinkles on her forehead if she laughed.
‘Let him understand. Is it all lies? He has a trash can instead of a stomach! Hence the name: Garbage!’ grumbled Cemal as he shook the hairdryer in his hand towards the cat carefully watching him behind narrowed eyes.
The hairdryer! Knowing that being subjected to the breath of this howling monster was worse than falling into a bucket full of water, the cat took off in a blink from the lap of the Blue Mistress and leapt onto the open window. After staying there for an instant to give those in the beauty parlour a final and unhappy once-over, he jumped towards the nearest empty space like a stuffed toy filled with swagger instead of stuffing. However, before his paws reached the garden, something weird landed on his head: a cerulean child’s dress, adorned with many tiny mermaid figures ruffled all around and a starched collar, which descended like a dry leaf or a piece of paper with an almost surreal slowness from the top floor of Bonbon Palace, for approximately five seconds, landing just moments away from the soil right on top of the cat who had cut across its path. Both landed on the ground at the same time.
‘Oh, look, look! It’s raining clothes from above!’ shouted the manicurist in excitement, having been rummaging through the shelf in front of the window to find the Number 113 burgundy nail polish.
Cemal, the plump ginger-head, the blonde with a slight cast in her eye and the apprentices all dashed over to the window in an instant. A little later, upon their insistence the Blue Mistress came also with reluctant steps and the jittery brunette limped over trying not to step on her pedicured feet. Clothes were indeed raining from above; children’s clothes in all types and colours. Judging by the crowd of eight to ten people gathered on the sidewalk, there were other spectators of this unexpected show. All had turned their heads up and were fixated on a single point trying to see the person throwing the clothes. Yet the perpetrator of the incident refused to reveal themself. Just a naked, unadorned, snow white woman’s armappeared at regular intervals from the window of the flat at the top floor of Bonbon Palace, on each appearance dropping yet another piece of clothing.
As the clothes rained down one after another, the manicurist stretched out of the window to catch the falling clothes with the happiness of someone trying to touch the first snow of the season. From among the dresses, socks, sweaters, shirts, pullovers, she managed to catch a resin yellow ribbon.
‘Don’t do
‘He ate and ate, then got up stretching. The animal had turned into a giant stomach! He couldn’t even walk, dragging along that tummy. We dashed after him, following him outside where he jumped on the wall of this side garden…and what a jump! He had become so heavy that his belly got caught and he almost fell down. We thought he would curl up somewhere and sleep for at least two days. No way! Instead he leaped to the other side of the wall. You know those garbage bags they leave there? Alas, we live in a garbage dump! Anyway this one had found a bunch of fish heads. I honestly have no idea what else he could have eaten that day. We felt sick as we watched him, you know. I swear I have been frightened of this cat ever since that day. We’ve heard a lot about cats who eat their owners when hungry but this Garbage here, he could gobble all of us down even when full. What’s more, I bet he would polish it all off with what he finds in the garbage!’
‘I swear he’s understood all we’ve been saying about him,’ exclaimed the plump gingerhead with a frozen face, afraid ofgetting wrinkles on her forehead if she laughed.
‘Let him understand. Is it all lies? He has a trash can instead of a stomach! Hence the name: Garbage!’ grumbled Cemal as he shook the hairdryer in his hand towards the cat carefully watching him behind narrowed eyes.
The hairdryer! Knowing that being subjected to the breath of this howling monster was worse than falling into a bucket full of water, the cat took off in a blink from the lap of the Blue Mistress and leapt onto the open window. After staying there for an instant to give those in the beauty parlour a final and unhappy once-over, he jumped towards the nearest empty space like a stuffed toy filled with swagger instead of stuffing. However, before his paws reached the garden, something weird landed on his head: a cerulean child’s dress, adorned with many tiny mermaid figures ruffled all around and a starched collar, which descended like a dry leaf or a piece of paper with an almost surreal slowness from the top floor of Bonbon Palace, for approximately five seconds, landing just moments away from the soil right on top of the cat who had cut across its path. Both landed on the ground at the same time.
‘Oh, look, look! It’s raining clothes from above!’ shouted the manicurist in excitement, having been rummaging through the shelf in front of the window to find the Number 113 burgundy nail polish.
Cemal, the plump ginger-head, the blonde with a slight cast in her eye and the apprentices all dashed over to the window in an instant. A little later, upon their insistence the Blue Mistress came also with reluctant steps and the jittery brunette limped over trying not to step on her pedicured feet. Clothes were indeed raining from above; children’s clothes in all types and colours. Judging by the crowd of eight to ten people gathered on the sidewalk, there were other spectators of this unexpected show. All had turned their heads up and were fixated on a single point trying to see the person throwing the clothes. Yet the perpetrator of the incident refused to reveal themself. Just a naked, unadorned, snow white woman’s armappeared at regular intervals from the window of the flat at the top floor of Bonbon Palace, on each appearance dropping yet another piece of clothing.
As the clothes rained down one after another, the manicurist stretched out of the window to catch the falling clothes with the happiness of someone trying to touch the first snow of the season. From among the dresses, socks, sweaters, shirts, pullovers, she managed to catch a resin yellow ribbon.
‘Don’t do
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