You take care of the tram and the tram takes care of you.
Photo: Pixabay
That Sunday morning I woke up in a darkened bedroom. In addition to a woman whose chest rose and lowered, with a dog to feet, who was looking at him when I still looked at him drunk. Who was the shadowy man in the picture next to the door? Paul Cézanne? Or was that a mirror? I felt thick and unattractive than ever. But it was nice to love. The dog sighed and let the snout sink on the floor, an outline in the dim light, and I was a air kiss later to the door.
When Emma left her little apartment, she let the radio run, in room volume. She put her phone calls, whether privately or professionally or professionally, on the route between the apartment door and bus stop, bus stops and school gates in order to be able to feel safe on the way to work and back. She was a burned child, anxious and possessive; She injured because she was injured and humiliated because she didn’t know it better. She was full orphan and had a friend who had been amputated in front of me. Her own felt like sinfully expensive gloves. Yes, they were gentle, just as Emma was meek as a whole, while my wishes not only appeared aggressively for her. That’s how it was. On the other hand, not either.
In the previous autumn before we knew each other, she had thrown herself in front of a tram. Fortunately, it wasn’t worse: the tram could slow down in time; Drivers and passengers remained unharmed. Emma herself slipped, got a few scratches and a small whirlpool. After that, she made rehab and school service temporarily only irregularly. From then on, she posted pictures of animals, sweet and tart, small and large, alpacas and impalas and dog breeds with French names – and sayings framed in pictures, which explained why these animals were better people. At the same time, she seemed to have gotten on the right track and gone completely crazy.
A few weeks after an unsuccessful bathing excursion, we sat opposite each other in front of a cheap café and talked about the possibility of vacation. Then her cell phone stirred, whereupon she wiped the alarm function away, rummaged a box out of her handbag and took the pill in front of my eyes. In doing so, she continued to talk about disability and early retirement, while I had to laugh very much. I hadn’t seen anything like this in decades.
Life is unpredictable, she explained. And death only one tram away, I added in Bille.