A piece of writing by my late mother, written for @exyle (translated from Dutch)

When you come in you do not have to expect him in the room ... ..no, he is sitting behind his computer, except for his father, his best friend. It is a silhouette that is on your retina. If the right composition with Mr. Shabby is present - and that can happen - then he looks like James Dean too.

”Just let the rolling tobacco dangle from your mouth, Mark”, I would like to say to him. How someone turns from a child into an adult person ... Wonderful.

He is a good man, with his father there are two good men ......

His daily life does not seem really exciting. Note ’seems’. Although he makes you believe that the feminine beauty can wait a long time for his capitulation, the idea can not fail to notice that, if anything goes by on TV or in a magazine, he has a healthy outlook on the challenges of life. Sometimes I see a look in the eye ... a 'moment' is called that of which you can only think that the girl on the front page does not leave him unmoved. He looks around in his potty and he is excellent in that. Then he looks like a ’frightened rabbit’ who does not know anything, drinks his glass of milk and eats his apple on time. Nothing is less true, he is not in any way insignificant. He knows everything. He learned quickly. Start talking about photography and he bursts loose ... After resistance ... Always after resistance. He must first defrost. (From whom would he have that).

Music? ...

He always has something new under the cork. The 'English Men' are on a visit every night, then he is busy, but smart as he is, it is' vir'tual visit, so he sends the visit with the click of a mouse. ... .. "Good night, fellows". His English is perfect. Even dialect just gurgles as if his cradle was in Manchester or something. He could be one of the Mancunians, no more.

Ashtrays full and if you close your eyes a wink and zoom in there is regularly a small glass in which milk does not fit. So…. And on his pc is probably a female with beautiful long hair, a good figure and a 'shy' face, because with shyness, he has something to do with it. It remains secret, it is only guessing.

But if the clock has struck twelve, he will celebrate his own party and if he wants to, he will invite his best friend to the table, then .... ‘Shadow’ may also participate ... but only if the good guys have already spent two hours meeting whether they really should do that.
The midnight snack overcomes. ‘Yes ... we call her!’ He sniffs at the thought that he is out of the world and his turntable friend gives him 'the best support' there is'. Never change a winning team.

As always I rub the sleeping bags out of my eyes, put my pink glasses back on, toddle to the turntable and pretend I do not know all that.
You want to protect them from a disillusion.
This game has to be played.

And the music too.

”Hallelujah."

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