SHORT STORY – GARBAGE
GARBAGE
Automatic traslation from the original story in Spanish. Not checked manually
It was 6 o’clock in the morning when Franky opened his eyes. After stretching, he went out of the house to see if the sun was visible.
He felt good, although it had rained almost all night, the strong wind had cleared the storm and it seemed that the sun, timidly, wanted to show all its splendour.
Then he looked towards the fence and saw, almost with pleasure, that the strong gusts of wind had overturned the barrel where his foster parents threw the waste. He had lain down towards the inside of the fence, falling right into one of the many puddles that the unpleasant night had left.
That dirty water of dirt and debris was a real mess, which caught Franky’s attention. With some concern, he approached the, in his opinion, wonderful puddle and rolled around in the smelly filth.
While feeling enormous satisfaction, he wondered why his foster parents had named him Franky. Although he had already become accustomed to it, he thought that, since his father was called José, naming him Franky was discriminatory. Was it perhaps for reasons of ethnicity? he wondered.
Still stuck in the mud, he raised his eyes looking at the sky and, from the place where the sun was, he thought that Marta, his adoptive mother, would soon call him to feed him. It would be better if he got out of the puddle, surely, if she saw him there, she would not feel too satisfied.
He headed towards the house and just as he was arriving, the figure of Marta, his mother, emerged through the door saying: Franky!!! Let’s eat!!! Franky, overjoyed, answered: Oinc!!! Oinc!!!.
Garbage – Short stories series – Copyright ©Montserrat Valls and Juan Genovés