magnificent, said block of wood, chasing question marks, isn’t it?
chasing question marks? bit naff no whattom zen, pursuing answer sign posts sounds better, said breadroll, however, for a start, definititely a starter.
they watched bent burghers fading around corners and commented on burghers fading around corners.
it certainly takes the edge off, said sponge.
and now, said breadroll, what now?
exactly, said block of wood, what now? what can we do?
chase question marks, said sponge, perhaps?
it is so dark this morning, said block of wood, how come?
that’s the time change, said sponge, hole turned into peak.
alright, said block of wood, that’s phantastic.
sponge stared at the wall. so did the others.
there are no trains on weekends, said the hole in the window with a man behind it, no trains at all, and we have decided it’s the weekend as of now, so there’ll be no trains.
once again, there are no train on weekends, no trains at all, and as a decision has been made with regard to the beginning of the weekend stating that the starting point for the weekend and the related no-train phase of our service portfolio has to be decided on, a further decision has been made to start the weekend as of now it is the weekend now and and subsequently there’ll be no trains as of now. let me repeat this, there are no trains at all on weekends, no trains on the weekends whatsoever, to make this clear, no trains at all, and as a decision has been made on the beginning of weekends due to the apparent need of such a decision leaving it at the discretion of the management to determine the starting point for the weekend and the connected no-train phase a further decision has been made necessary to start the weekend as of now, it is the weekend now and and hence there’ll be no train service will be available as of now. we apologise for any inconvenience caused.
i reckon there won’t be a train any time soon, said sponge, in fairly minor insight but i have been lauded for less.
breadroll: i am starving. that’s how hungry i am.
block of wood: i feel a bit stiff as if i swallowed a stick. i should get it seen.
sponge: i am dry as my mouth. not good. what if somebody sits down. not good.
having decided against walking they waited for a train. a train was not announced let alone in sight. the night seemed spoilt rotten.
breadroll, sponge and block of wood had fallen asleep on the train. as the journey was paid for all the way to the last stop nobody cared waking them up. on the way back nobody saw a reason to wake them up as they had not reached their destination and hence the purpose of public transportation seemed defeated.
so let’s get up and wake, said breadroll, and amen said block of wood.
my leg’s asleep, said sponge.
1.25 and 1.25 and 1.25, that’s 3 of us, said sponge and the others nodded. we worked this out very well, although the correct fare would be 1.70, he said, there will be some walk involved. 1.25 is a much nicer number though, isn’t it.
yes, said breadroll.
yes, said block of wood, there will be grub present when we arrive.
nothing like a drain to down, said sponge, if i may conclude with a bun.
with jeeze, said block of wood.
and jives and jones, said sponge.
breadroll, sponge and block of wood were waiting for a train. there won’t be one today, said breadroll, not today anyway.
how do you know?
the loudspeaker just announced it, said block of wood. you can’t trust the loudspeakers in this country, said breadroll, they’re in with the benches. all the seats.
the bench i talk to, said sponge, is very elaborate and of beechwood.
- that’s a hard one.
- benches are hard on you, that’s what they are supposed to be.
breadroll did not look delighted. why is that, he said, nobody will sit on you, sponge, the bench is too hard.
they’ll come, said sponge, when they see me, moist and soft.
not warm though, said block of wood.
seamus brandon. but you can call me remus. uncle remus actually. boy, you’ve grown. last time i saw you they used you only on the smallest specks, and now look at you. that’s how many years now? at least if not more i’d say.
sponge always had seen himself as an adventurer and explorer, ready and willing to seek out and explore the most remote areas, but never before had this dream included the exploration of pluto and the alpha centauri region. he felt ready now to take up the struggle and go on that very journey, to leave.
- will there be a priest?
- no. just a minister, but with training in spiritual food poisoning and sacrosanct process modules, years of experience apparently. there’s also a limit on cream puffs, should you choose to throw more than a dozen.
well that’s grand, said sponge, i drum a rhythmic pattern on block of wood and you dance, stag. i shall handle the door knob.
at some stage, said sponge, we should swap the bench for a sofa. we also should tell us each other our favourite words.
paperclip, said block of wood.
hotcross, said breadroll.
thirsty, said sponge.
will you have sprouts, said block of wood.
i reckon i start off with savoury scones, said breadroll, anything else would be a little bit heavy and too much on my plate.
they were quiet as was the tart. the cream had long settled and was about to turn into a bitter hag. the prospects were not good at all.
to speed things up we’ll have just a bun to start with, said breadroll, and the tart smiled a cheesy grin.
it is never too early for a beer, said sponge.
i don’t think that’s the point here, said block of wood.
they sat on a bench in midst of the vanilla tart. the sun shone, silence was looming around the corner.
the sun still shone when sponge had swallowed a bite and started to speak. i think we got very far so far, he said, we should consult the bench.
sun, silence, three on a bench.
with cream, lots, said breadroll, when they got to the point.
thing is, said sponge, you mabe your point but it should be discussed in a meeting.
are we almost there?
dunno. all looks the same to me.
what?
i said, i have no idea?
do you have change?
yep.
block of wood proceeded to purchase a can of coke.
sponge was trying to reached a point where he could handle breadroll’s affection for the vanilla tart. i try to reach this point, he said.
in the office, sponge wet on a chair, wanting to be sat on.
elle a chaude au cul, he said.
meanwhile a man walked out of a shop in rathmines where he had bought a newspaper. he went home, made himself a cup of herbal tea and proceeded to read the paper.
it has been a long time since breadroll had had his encounter with the spanish vanilla tart.
she now was standing outside in the rain.
i like most of them when they’re soft and moist, said breadroll, butter me, blokk.
the sun rose to a morning and did not pay attention to any details. there weren’t any.
sponge, breadroll and block of wood did exercise to open their meridians.
once they’re open, said sponge, we have some tea.
all cheered and jolly puns penetrated the air.
31 March, 2004 