Below are some fragments composed at various times during the last few cooler months.
The cold is hard to mentally compete with, but it’s always nice to reflect that “hey, my struggling brain was actually still moving during this time!” (Even if it was mostly whimsical and made little sense)…
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29th May
At the lower place
I said I would leave my shoes at the door and go only in my dressing gown.
Besides, what is unusual is also exotic, is also fun, is also an honour.
I have nothing but my things (of which there are many) and everything, but without them I am lost.
The smallest things remind me of “that place” and the longest things? I have no interest in talking about them.
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4th June
Every small thing I have gathered, I collected from people on the streets:
Songs, stories, bits of cardboard. They save me the trouble of being committed.
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2nd July:
I haven’t had the courage to eat my greens.
When I look at them, they avoid my gaze but speak to me of all my mishaps and whisper wrongdoings at each other.
So what’s the appeal?
Should I lather them in sauce? Should I drench them in a vinaigrette? Douse them in salt?
I’ll eat them tomorrow – all the greens will be gone.
*
I have fifteen pieces of mandarin segments in my hands.
My face smells like sunscreen and on the way home, I draw little citrus bodies and dispose of the seeds by spitting them out on front lawns.
Perhaps trees will grow in many years and leaves neighbours wondering how giant floods called fruit bearing trees into existence.
Gabriella Florek 