Hundreds of rectangular concrete boxes sprawling towards the shore.
Grey, white, ochre and brown.
Like Tetris pieces that have fallen from the sky, perfectly filling every empty space of land and air.
A toddler crying his lungs out, The persistent horn of the gas truck, The loud radio of the neighbour, A heated conversation in a foreign language, Machines working in a faraway construction site, A dog barking relentlessly, And an idiot revving up his motorbike like his life depended on it.
I woke up when the sun still was shy. The bed sheets didn’t want me anymore, and the apartment was telling me to leave. So I left. I didn’t even bother to take off my pjs. I put on my flip-flops and greeted the day from middle of the road. I danced along the pavements, […]
The door is closed and the sun is shining on the quiet streets. For the 40th day.
He started talking to the dying plant in his living room. And made friends with all kinds of imaginary creatures. He learned to listen to the absence of voices, to read the colors in his small apartment and to find beauty in the most ordinary objects.