partly by the fact that a fuming old man in his underpants is pointing a gun at him,
and partly because he is increasingly convinced that he’s sustained some sort of concussion.
Mirsad straightens up and nods at Ove with more determination. “I told my dad I’m gay.”
Ove’s eyes grow slightly less threatening. But he doesn’t lower his rifle.
“My dad hates gays. He always said he’d kill himself if he found out that any of his children were gay,” Mirsad goes on.
After a moment’s silence he adds: “He didn’t take it so well. You might say.” “He throwed him out!” Adrian interjects.
“Threw,” Ove corrects. Mirsad picks up his bag from the ground and nods anew at Ove.
“This was a stupid idea. We shouldn’t have disturbed—” “Disturbed me with what?” Ove cuts him short.
Now that he’s standing here in his underpants in below-freezing temperatures, he might as well at least find out the reason why, it seems to him.
Mirsad takes a deep breath. As if he’s physically shoving his pride down his throat.
“Dad said I was sick and not welcome under his roof with my... ‘unnatural ways,’” he says,
swallowing hard before he manages to spit out the word “unnatural.”
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