The road, and then waiting, and then bed, and never quite arriving.
Five hundred, and a dam for a secret agent. We’ll let you know if anything striking strikes us. No water there – instead you can throw something down if you dare; if you prefer you can also look down and feel drawn toward it. A bird pauses meanwhile, a Belgian bird makes the clouds move faster, and we drive past – I mean, we bet on red, the rocks, the money. We drive into an open field, so red and then green, green as the valley for all who’ve been waiting far too long already.Three hundred, and saying valley and actually meaning it – so, chess players or Las Vegas, at least nice to look at, and five thousand times valley, anyway not too little, and then here, great views and this green water, this blowing‑away, I mean, these great stones. Two hundred, and it’s probably salt since it’s white. You stick your hands and feet in when you’re dreaming, and everything’s entirely crystal‑white, I mean, that is how it must have been for Jesus H. Christ too.
The turn, almost missed it, but then barely got it, the turn and an endless road and first one hundred fifty, then one hundred, a turn and nothing else, a road without end, eighty, sixty, the clock not yet showing night, the clock now suggesting breathing exercises, and fifty and forty and no signal, the turn still managed, gas station, finally arrived.
Tired eyes and mouths, no longer seeing, no longer spitting, dinner and diner, can we have the bill please, grandmas and a church group, when can we have the bill please, children and slot machines, why can’t we have the bill yet.
At the counter then, waiting three times and switching yourself off. A humming, that must be the bathroom. Just get into bed now, and ask yourself whether it bites. Maybe.
The views expressed in this text are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of the Goethe-Institut.