As a 10-year-old, along with my siblings, I dreamt of scraping off the poison from fly-killer paper into his coffee, grounded down glass and sprinkling it over his breakfast, loosening the carpet on the stairs so he would trip and break his neck.
A los 10 años, junto con mis hermanos, soñé con raspar el veneno del papel matamoscas en su café, poniéndolo en el vaso y rociándolo por encima de su desayuno, o aflojar la alfombra