Signs of Life
Phantasiesätze (Fantasy Sentences)
Many years ago, the cities by the river were gripped by a contagion. Things started to change and it was not clear if the transformation was a symptom of the disease or a way to escape it. The contagion touched everything: animals, plants, stones, soil, men, women and children, their thoughts, dreams, memories. An old woman once told me how all memories turn into trees; I could hardly make out what she was saying. She said she could hear the trees singing: to be a body, to be any body. After the contagion ended, the cities appeared untouched. One had to look hard to see the traces of the previous time. If one could listen to the trees, what would they say? A way out, a way out?