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Was dreckig ist, kehrn‘ wir nicht unter’n Teppich (solange der Vorrat reicht)

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Hab noch einige Texte, die ich noch nich veröffentlicht hab, zumindest nicht außerhalb universitärer Einrichtungen. Heute: der vierte Teil der Kurzgeschichte “Alternate”.

„Again I wrote my message. The letters started to disappear in front of my eyes until only the question mark remained. I forgot how to breathe, how to move. I was sure that my heart even stopped beating. In this cataleptic state I observed how new letters had begun to emerge from apparently thin air until a word had been built. “SELF”. This word was different than the others before. The letters were capitalized which could have meant that somebody else wrote it this time. My own intuition though suggested that it rather was written by a machine than a human. Some sort of command line. The following words proved me right. “DESTRUCT SEQUENCE INITIATED”. The mirror started to turn black. Within seconds one could not see anything in it. At the same time the piece of paper caught fire. I tried to blow it out, without any success. Even water could not stop it as I had to learn from a short trip to the sink. Was this it?

The room darkened. All the furniture blurred into undefinable shapes. I felt exceptional fatigue. I expected so very much of this exciting adventure and now I did not need a mirror to see a fool sitting on his bed which should had been winnowed a long time ago. Yet again I was disappointed by life. To the relentless rhythm of the clock, I opened the drawers of the dresser and pulled out a half empty bottle of whiskey. Tick Tick Tick, it’s the sound of my life running out. I drowned my self-pity in a hearty gulp of the beverage. Ten o’clock in the morning, a new low. Nothing seemed to wait for me on the other side. No hope, no redemption, only perdition. In the distance I could hear a buzzing sound. “I sure hope it’s the cavalry” I shouted grinning into the emptiness of the room. The telephone must have been ringing for some time now. There was this short impulse again: electrons shooting from the brain into the limbs forcing them to do something, to show at least a sign of a living organism. The next moment I stood barefoot on the cold floor. I fought my way through the apartment and to the small table from which this jarring noise emanated from. I picked up the receiver.

Me (tiddly): Hello?

Ms X (Bad clumsy connection; female voice, I could tell that even through my whiskey): Who are you?

Me: What do you mean, who am I, who are YOU? How rude-

Ms X: I asked who you are.

Me: I’m Santa Claus, the Easter bunny and the tooth fairy. The Holy Trinity in one person. (I could tell that ONLY through my whiskey)

Ms X: Listen jamhead. This is really important.

Me: Jamhead? What is even-

Ms X: You got something which does not belong to you. We want it back.

Me: I – don’t know what you mean. (I lied but I made this pretty obvious. Somehow I did want this whole thing to continue)

Ms X (For some seconds I could hear clicking sounds on the other side of the line): It is of utmost importance to return the suitcase. We know you have it, Clark.

Me (Was I surprised that she knew my name? After communicating through a mirror, after disappearing and reappearing letters, no I must say I actually expected that something like this would happen): —

Ms X (calm): We know that you are Clark Woodborrow. You work as an accountant. You have been living alone in a hotel room for three years. You are depressed and drink heavily since your wife Susanne-

Me: Alright, stop. (I still could not handle it. Every time I thought about her a heavy lump formed itself in my throat) Please, don’t talk about her.

Ms X: Everything would be so much easier for both of us, if you just return the suitcase. I promise you that you won’t ever hear from us again.

Me: Why should I trust you? I’m calling the cops.

Ms X: Come on, Clark. I have your whole life written in front of me. We know everything about you, who you are, where you live, where everybody you know lives. Should I tell you what your parents had for breakfast today? Do you want me to continue?

Me: Is this a threat?

Ms X: Nothing will happen to anyone if you just give us what we want.

Me (Even if this was a bluff, I could not risk more lives to be destroyed because of me): Ok.

Ms X: Meet me at the butcher’s on 101 Mount Street, 7 pm.

Me: There is no butcher there.

Ms X: Of course there isn’t.“

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