Düsseldorf, GER
Privat Apartment
bake a red
Julianna Perkosz
A pair of red Puma Speedcats is waiting for its owner to wash them. The Red sees the sun outside and it smells the mugginess holed up in itself.
Its owner got too baked and left the Red outside in the rain, forgetting about them. The Red can see its owner from the bottom steps they've been
sitting on for the last two days. The owner needs to take a shower - the oiliness of his hair can line a stainless steel pan to make breakfast eggs.
A May breeze walks past the Red, separating the left twin from the right twin. The Red imagines what it would do if it had hands.It could knit an invisible
string keeping left and right Red together forever; it could paint itself on canvas using acrylic paint and oil pastels; it could squeeze the oil out from its
owner, heat it till it splatters on the stove, and drench the owners face in it like it's a collagen mask. The Red wonders how soft its heart is for forgiveness.
The May breeze is replaced with a last call of summer as a warmth hugs the red Speedcats. Oh feuk, comes the owners voice, that's where you've been.
The Red is pulled up, pushed together and taken into the heat of its Fitzroy home. My bad. The Red's laces look down and see the brown, Ugg slippers keeping
the owners feet warm. Bastard, goes the Red. They look at the owners hair as he walks with them, they look at the oil paintings in the living room and they
feel the cold steel of the shoe rack they're placed on. One, two, four, five, they count to eleven waiting for the steel to warm up from the heating.
They hear running water inside the house. The red Puma Speedcats smell lavender coming from the bathroom, will that be us soon? The Reds bake in the heated room.
