6th February 2016
Via Cesare Balbo, 32, Milan
Birke Gorm, Samuel Linus Gromann, Tim Hartmann, Anna Hostek, Lukas Kaufmann, Felizitas Moroder,
Laurids Oder, Johanna Odersky, Marina Sula, Emmanuel Troy, Eugen Wist, Julija Zaharijević
Squeezed together around the table, balancing on these hopeless plastic seats, all drinking shandies, with coasters placed on top of our glasses. It’s that time of the season. Everyone but him orders the only vegetarian dish on the menu. He’s eating some kind of rotisserie meat, served on a handcrafted spear-like piece of cutlery. I know of his fondness for forged artefacts and comment on it. She steals it for me, without the need for me to ask for it. First leaving it under the table for a while, then slipping it under her dress as we all walk back to the car. The size of the parking lot testifies to the feeling of hope there must once have been about a future costumer base.
From behind the wheel he makes fun of me for sitting there like a princess with that sceptre in my hand, gazing out the window at the moving mountains. In slow motion I turn my head to the left.
A. L. Orsi again as P. Wächtler;
I wish I had saved up some of the energy I spent on all these useless talks with useless figures and characters of no importance, in order to manage these final meters back home