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.
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