The Healer

On his desk, in his office he sits
& looks through another page of a file in a folder.

He duly fills the cases with figures and text,
Of achievements to expect if funds are accorded

From others who sit at their desks and probably sight
As they look through another page of a file in a folder.

His heart beats.

‘The danger of depression is great these days’, she says, ‘protect yourself, protect yourself my children.’ And then she chants with a juvenile voice as the fire consumes another fruit, another flower. I mumble, try to follow these words I don’t understand. The smoke, my eyes I close.
How long since? My questions, my body dissolve in repetitions of vibrations I don’t understand. Her yellow face, red cloths, warm smile and too much smoke. Her simple words. A home for my thoughts, a chair for my back and aching knees. Blue skies. So close.
How long since?

Coming Home

Too many arms, too many legs, too many feet, too many directions: Clapham junction on a busy Friday afternoon. Almost impossible to get out of the incoming train - too many people, too many bags, my second bag gets squeezed. I stumble, out, against the stream of pressing new passengers, bumps, kicks, the terrifying noise of old trains stopping, the terrifying noise of metal loudspeakers over my head attacking with an unbearable and barely understandable staccato of cancellations, alterations and information about the right train on the wrong lane: Der Totale Krieg in a Jamaican accent. Down the grey stairs with all my bags, quickly, against all the up-comers with all their bags and suitcases and children and I hurry, I stumble, I proceed, finally turn left at the end, into the overcrowded corridor - the little shop, what did I need? I turn, collide, stumble, get thrown on the ground. Everything rolls over me like a massive wild wave.

I open my eyes. The passage in the middle of which I had fallen was empty. nobody. not a single noise. I get up, walk slowly to quay number 11, get up the stairs, into the calm night. It must have been snowing for already quite a while. Peaceful white snowflakes, slowly covering the lanes, the roofs, the trees. A warm yellow light - a lonely train, makes its way slowly towards my quay, halts. The wagon door in front of me opens, a dim yellow cabin invites, warm air flows towards me, embraces me. I enter, sit down, alone. The train departs. I am finally coming home.

The brown eyes in front of me move back, both hands release my ears, a smile. « Ok, phew, this time it was really difficult. ». I have been successfully rebooted.

-o0o-