Our shadowy selves
I sit in the back of the car, my dear friend in front in the driver’s seat, waiting for Tatjana to come out of the apartment. It is dark, the shadows of the linden trees make the street lights twinkle inside the parked car. He is speaking …
It’s like the passion has gone out of me, for exercise, for my new job, for many things. I’m not sure where I am supposed to be or what I’m supposed to do. Perhaps this is simply a reflection of the times. There is so much uncertainty and little hope for what is going to happen.
Am I dreaming? Am I speaking? Are we all one time specific cliche?