MASKE, 2023
I dream this scene:
- A small table with a chair, an old man sits on it, dark brown suit, torn cuffs, beige shirt, next-day-afternoon shadow, glasses, black frames, gray hair, empty space, the archeology of the steppes, on the table right a bottle of milk, late sixties model, with the thick neck, center-table sits an Olympia typewriter, museum version, left-side an ashtray with cigarette butts, smoked all the way to the filter, the old man types, the machine pushes the bottle to the edge, it falls for fifty-three seconds, the future doesn’t exist until -
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- hitting the floor, the sound of shards, a clock of cherries, smeared on a non-Berlin wall, a metronome, the sheet-music stand is razor sharp, the milk floods the area, babies are white, the suspense of the growing puddle, a milk tsunami, all is white, when the light goes out there are no colors, except in the light, the hall –
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- is narrow, long, dirty, the doors at the end are made of metal, slightly ajar, a woman’s fingers grab the frame, knuckles white, blood-flow stopped, a metallic sound, fingers hitting the keyboard, letter tracks on paper, a choreography of fingers, the terminology of zero, white drops on the ceiling, an artist’s sketch of a religious fanatic in a black BMW, there are seven men in the hallway in dresses and ties, in half-profile, urinating on the wall, smearing the graffiti, a mobile rings, a familiar melody, a recycled Mozart, the man doesn’t move, his hands are down there, he sings with the melody, the others join in, forming an urban liturgy, to the last spurt of a global –
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- the old man is shaving, the sharpness of the needle, white tiles, metallic sound of a metronome, a woman’s fingers on the door, the snails slither across the floor, urine in the milk, intermezzo, fifty three seconds to birth, the death of a half-shaved old man–
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- the woman opens the door
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- a blinding light, a herd of wild horses are running across the steppe, the oily, dark skin wafting with fumes, the mane, the dust rises, white dust, dusted milk, the sticker on the falling bottle, 2023 -
Matjaž Zupančič, A SKETCH
April 2006