Puppeteer

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Puppeteer

Hiding behind a slightly opened door my 5-yaer old eyes witnessed the unthinkable.

A muffled dry scream bouncing off the walls.

The repeated sweaty swings of the golf club … and blood.

The 6th blow and it was over for her … and for me!

He died in jail soon after.

I grew up in foster care.

From foster parent to foster parent. Twelve houses in total.

I never talked again; nobody helped; they just threw me out over and over again.

I never understood a word spoken by them.

I heard mumblings, only mumblings.

I discovered a puppet in the garbage one day.

A beautiful old elephant-puppet. Dirty, torn and neglected.

Beautiful!

I named it Maximilian.

I fell in love.

I could understand when Maximilian talked to me … and he talked and signed all day long.

I am a puppeteer, a very happy puppeteer.

…still hiding behind my puppet theater.

I am a puppeteer. Orphan since 5

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