Never Have Your Dog Stuffed [antikvár]

chapter 1 DON'T NOTICE ANYTHING My mother didn't try to stab my father until I was six, but she must have shown signs of oddness before that. Her detached gaze, the secret smile. Something. We were living in a two-room apartment over the dance floor of a nightclub. My father was performing in the show that played below us every night. We could hear the musical numbers through the floorboards, and we had heard the closing number at midnight. My father should have come back from work hours ago. My mother had asked me to stay up with her. She was lonely. We played gin rummy as the band below us played "Brazil" and couples danced through the haze of booze and I