「故事·听力」I Set My Dad With Mistress With My Own Hands
I Set My Dad With Mistress With My Own Hands
Well, I’ll play with open cards from the very beginning. I will devote most of my story to my father. And this is not because I love him so much. A few months ago, he left me, my mom, my sister, and my brother.And I'm so mad at him!
It all started when our family moved to a new home. Several generations of my Dad’s family had lived here before us in this old house, of course, accumulating a vast amount of unnecessary things that my Dad simply did not dare to throw away. And, of course, all these things were packed in various boxes, which, upon arrival, needed repacking, waiting to be sorted… literally EVERYWHERE... and repacking them was my task. My brother Joseph, who is one year younger than me, was my helper... so, as you can guess, I worked basically alone.
To find at least some pleasure in this boring and dusty work, I not only sorted and packed the old stuff, but I also tried to find something interesting there. Most of the time there was nothing of interest in these boxes, but finally I found an old notebook in a hard cover. It was not signed, and contained some jerky and incoherent handwritten notes. Of course, I decided that it was somebody's diary! And of course, I wanted to read it!Doesn't everybody do that?
But sorting out these notes was an even more difficult task than sorting out the boxes. At some point I realized that it was my Dad's handwriting! This only made me even more curious. But not because I wanted to read my Dad’s diary. You see, when he was young, my Dad dreamed of becoming a writer. Dad had always had this big thing about literature — he even named all of us, his children, in honor of Nobel Prize winners for literature. In general, looking at these notes, I decided that this was not a diary, but some outlines for a future or never written book.And I curiously buried myself in these handwritten pages.
The whole text was written from the main character’s point of view, and that’s why, at first, I thought it was a diary, and it was about a relationship with a girl named Francis — at first it was a completely prosperous and happy relationship... of, what seemed to be two high school students, but then everything collapsed due to a chain of coincidences. Francis's parents got divorced, and Francis’s mother, who was a Canadian citizen, took her daughter back with her to her homeland. The main character of the story lived in the USA and for some reason could not go after his beloved girlfriend. Then the text went on, regarding some close friends of Francis, who for some reason didn’t like the main character of the story. And I did not really understand what happened next. But I was wondering what happened at the end of this story, so I decided to take the notebook, approach my Dad, and honestly admitting that I had read his notes, ask him about what happened to the main character, to Francis, and to her friends.
Dad was very surprised at what I'd found, and seemed a little embarrassed because I had read it. As he told me, it was neither a diary, nor a collection of literary sketches, but something in between. Francis was a girl who existed in reality, and moreover, she was my Dad’s first love. But Dad was really just trying to express his feelings from a difficult break-up with his girlfriend on paper and make an essay about it. He asked me if this story was really interesting, and of course, I said that I liked it a lot. Then Dad fetched another one of the boxes from the storage room and pulled out a rewritable CD from in there. He said that the story was not finished on paper, because later he bought a computer and tried to finish it with the help of this new technology.He even scanned several photographs of this Francis.
I continued to read the story, and now it was much easier to read. I also looked at Francis’ photographs. She was a pretty girl, but there was something about her that I didn’t like. Maybe it was her smile? In general, it looked like something was wrong with her, like she was somehow unpleasant to me. And as for my Dad’s relationship with Francis, it was really destroyed by this new circle of friends she had made in Canada. Well, not exactly new — her childhood friend Nadine lived in the city Francis had left for...