A VIEWING
On a well-visited graveyard stands one cross next to the other, closely together. Oh, how the cold full moon sweetly shines onto the scene below. "What's with all that crowding?" a man, dressed in all black, asks. "One could almost think there are more dead than living." "You are indeed right about that," says another, and a third adds: "Well, where are we going to end up when they all just die away like flies?" "Hm, well," a fourth man feels compelled to add. "At least they're not just lying around uselessly. Ecologically seen, of course." The first man grunts and laughs so hard about that comment that he has to hold his stomach. A perturbed owl feels the need to flap away. "Are you opposed to death?" the second man suddenly asks shyly. "What are you thinking, young man!" the first man replies sharply. "I am only opposed to this kind of death." "What? Do you think they're going to get back up any time soon?" the second man asks. "He must not have read the bible!" the first man interjects. "Clear as gravy that they'll all get back up some day. Day X, you can read all about that .. oh, do you happen to have the exact time?" "A quarter 'til three," the second man croaks. "Oh dear, this late already? Well, I am extremely sorry, but I have to get back now," the first man replies as he takes off his coat, and his voice sounds strangely flat when he says it, almost soft; almost as foggy as the air around them. The second man, too, throws off his coat and the third as well tosses his rags. That's when the fourth man becomes sick to his stomach, as he faces the three skeletons before him. "Bye then, 'til next time," comes a gentle whisper from who knows where. Translation by Petra Davidson. zurück | Kurzgeschichten | Schnipsel | Gedichte |
