Seething since 2000*
the boy reading on the road at the railway station & the boy sneering at him, having hidden his copy of the same book in his travelling bag (both of them heading home).
they have just met, this couple with their hands all over each other – they mistake freedom for the right to paw & moon in public, here by the fountain, where everyone else pretends not to look (disapproving).
nuclear families in ideal mode, the boy’s face lighting up when he discovers he may order fanta at the cafe; while the little girl takes her cue from her mother who, like father, looks at her watch (then the map).
4. these two highly experienced backpackers only dream of having seen it all, of never having to find the train station ever again but they know the world is still a big place and bow to the task (together).
5. the girls pretend to be lesbians in order to avoid unwanted attentions, then split up so as to double their chances later on; who can blame them? after all, it’s summer (& they’re both lonely).
he is not long for this world but he gamely trudges up the steps to a tower where, he knows, the view is exactly the same as it was in the last town (his lover holds his palsied hand).
i am afraid that these two may well be americans – they seem too willing to talk to anyone & if they could only listen maybe they would understand this world’s rejection (of their tireless advances).
deep within the earth there is a place where she will feel at home but for now she contents herself with walking along a cobbled street (eyes downcast).
arrogant, unhappy, unfulfilled & redundant male drags beaten, submissive, tired & pathological woman through the streets of her home town (bewildering them both).
father & son travel on the train; as the miles pass the son becomes more & more restless until his father hits him across the face (the process begins again).
do not judge us by our accents or our clothes but by the manner in which we leave (never to return).
the locals (the dead).