The man woke early from a wonderful dream convinced that he could speak German. And, to some extent this was true. Ausgezeichnet! he said quietly. His wife arched her comma shape into him. Ein wundershön traum, he said into her hair, but his voice was sticky and thick in his throat, full of cold, as … Continue reading Always in the distance.
Despite having spent an age arranging the blind so that she could sit on the rug with her back to the sofa and watch the morning light dance within their slatted lengths, she found herself under heavy cloud, brewing, quite unable to play. She laid the cold horn on the sofa, scooped up her shades … Continue reading Birdsong of The Spoons.
Teasing out a tune from a borrowed horn, in a rented room, in Kreuzberg. Breathe in the perfume of the afternoon - taste bottled beer and oranges. The shadows rise as the sunlight falls. The sparrows in the scaffold sing. In 10962. Two punks sitting on a painted wall - Baruther Strasse … Continue reading Postcard From Kreuzberg.
The street art/graphics around Barutherstrasse (10961)
An hour spent browsing in the wonderful Bucherhalle (Hauptstraße 154, 10827 Berlin): a bright, one roomed & spacious antiquarian bookshop. A staircase leads to a balcony floor that encompasses the main area below, giving the place an airy, lofty feel. There is a wide selection of new & second-hand fiction & study aids, art … Continue reading Walking Berlin: north to Tiergarten/south to Kreuzberg
Hotel Johann, Johanniterstrasse, 8. 10961. Breakfast on eggs, dark bread & coffee. The eggs are boiled, nesting in a bowl. They are covered with a warm towel. I take two. The breads are sliced, laid out, light to dark, on a wooden tray next to the butter sachets, the dishes of marmalade, honey, jam. The […]
