Ear City - part II

Here comes the second chapter in our exciting sequel about love, life and death. In case you didn't read chapter 1, just scroll down. But now, let's hear it for.... chapter 2:

It's getting deeper. He is sweating. The black tower is far behind him. He could crawl all the way up if he wanted. There are children reaching only the waist of their teacher. Standing on the edge, they have wind in their hair. They can hear the sound of metal entering soil. He is working hard. Removing the thick mud he is standing on. She comes down the stairs, following the flow of people. A woman says something to her. She steps off the curbstone, placing her foot on the asphalt. He stops and breathes heavily.
The wind changed its direction and the smell of Sweden came to his nose and aroused a distant feeling of a melancholy sea view. A firm grip dug deeper into his item and the sensation of locating the unseen made him think of the breasts of his childhood dentist. He moved on into the group of trees and lowered his body creating a transformation to the next level of hunting activity.
the breasts are hard in this cold
it is cold
the wound has grown bigger it seems
it was just a little scratch from razorblade
last month
my finger fits in now
it feels good now scratching it
i like the wound
i like my ass
i smell heavy earth
He is walking across the square. Two cats playing in his flat. At the center of the square, in between all the people, a little girl comes up to him. "Where are you going". "Out". "Out, where", a woman bumps in to him. She is hurrying, running towards the station. Disappearing up the escalators. He answers the girl.

"You didn't go down with the elevator. When you came up, you were smiling and the sun came sharply through the window. And it fell on your face. You were looking out and I saw you on a background of the city
with all the bridges and the power plant in the distance. In the cold, crisp air the smoke from the chimneys became thick and soft and white as snow. We went through the opening under the tracks, letting the world unfold in front of us as we took the last steps. You moved through the crowd in your own fast pace. Let your mind get lost in the landscape of the city. We got something to eat in a little cheap place. Thai or Norwegian. And we sat on a café drinking something hot, with bicycles swarming around us. Then we took the metro and got off at the harbor, that day the water was almost green. We walked past the old ships lying there and a boy tried to sell me some of that Indian plastic crap. The wind got stronger. You were getting cold and wanted to go home. So we went home. And you were still smiling."



...has a slight sense of meaning begun to take shape yet? Well, maybe it's not even there to be found. Comments are happily received. And more thrilling action is soon to follow...