breath in, said sponge, you look too thin. your head looks big. breath out. your old self. don’t hold your breath. that’s my advice. then again, you might hold your breath for something. or someone. there’s a queue. wait a minute. that will be a short story, that there is the end.
train people have closed the shutters. they are having tea. train people have apologised for any inconvenience caused and the train was cancelled due to poor rail conditions. there won’t be another one for a while but it’ll arrive shortly.
the doing of any thing in accordance with an authorisation under the train people act shall not be treated, for any purpose, as a breach of any requirement or restriction imposed by any other enactment or rule of law. says the train man and the others nod in agreement. not much we can do, says sponge. we can wait a bit more, says breadroll and is right about that. spot on, says sponge.
there was a time when some things worked out better than others. that’s all changed now and other things have picked up, while some things don’t work the best. the child made rattling sounds with the collection box, please sir, it said, for a pair of helping hands for the community.
we have to focus on the bottom line, said sponge, where holes are punched into poor people’s arses. the workers get punched for free, said breadroll, and the others are paid for. still, said sponge, when things are not going well for them they do require a helping hand to scratch an itchy hole.
they can make do with just the one, said breadroll.
you’re heartless, said sponge.
heartless perhaps, but breadrolls are the soul of the country.
whatever the damage, it will be done, the man said and left the house. he strolled for a bit and came home again. he had a sandwich, plain, frugal. he drank coffee, water, fanta. in that order. he burped. very rude, he said to himself. cheer up, he said but he wouldn’t listen. he never does. pointless, he said. not worth the effort. he left the house. those very the highlights of the day.
another man had his hair cut, got injured, ill, died. but that is a different story.
look, it is like this, he said, we have to talk to people. go out there, do something.
funny you say that, breadroll said. he paused. always paused. he was the most difficult person to write dialogue for. must have been the drink. yes, he drank, like a sponge. sponge didn’t bother.
why, he said. we could have a meeting with the train people. learn wregwsss or whatever they speak. train people have a sense of humour, we’ve got to be more like them, more positive, outgoing, involved. get into dialogue with the lot.
problem is, dialogue involves two people but when you catch one of them another one inevitably joins in.
there must be a way to involve more than two people in a dialogue.
it sort of only works in literature.
really? that’s just what people say, you know, a saying.
want 1 inch more or 3 more inches? you decide, all for six euro. special price. be honest.
to be honest, i wouldn’t know to be honest, said sponge, my day just isn’t long enough. even now when i don’t see the office that often anymore, the outside from time to time but you know how buildings look like after a while. no way i am going to decide on that, that for sure. i wonder if i’m the only one listening to that man.
the man was slight, tracksuited, and had his hair combed over. nice watch, new car. he left without without a trace. not certain that he ever was there.
so what are we at? the mother of five –of two– of two of course or is it the father of seven? of six, excuse me.
they hardly allow fathers or sevens on tv, or of six for that matter, that must be a hell of an accident before they get a mention.
now, shall we leave these lines, said sponge, or shall we comment?
comment, said breadroll.
and what’s it going to be then, said sponge, long or short?
short, said breadroll, they’re all shite.
poetic, said sponge, poetry is a nourish. any time. -ment, i meant nourishment. we keep correcting ourselves but that doesn’t make a great story, or explains the title. not funny at any time.
a cup of something would be nice perhaps, said sponge, but well we just for get about it.
shall we, said breadroll, that seems to be more satisfying anyway. we could decide to give up all hope, we would be rewarded.
we witness a naked man running down the road. nothing else happens, pretty grim area. bleak area, nothing going bar the one guy running, that should have been mentioned in the title, not just the one. at least there was one at least.
there’s got to be something, said sponge.
where is he, said breadroll, and block of wood said nothing. nothing at all for the entire day.
breadroll spent some time counting spots on the pavement.
and what’s the shop bit, said blokk. he whacked breadroll, he whacked sponge. they did not have teeth to be kicked out but butts to be smacked heavily. after the blood had dried up breadroll said, you know your asskicking is kinda gay, as in homosexual, you better beef that up a bit you know. whilst block of wood saw where breadroll was coming from he could not fathom what he was talking about.
sponge was unimpressed. a rather sleeky way of not getting my drift, he said.
you call this dada, said brekst in a sudden burst of mirth, this doesn’t make any sense. hah. – uneasy looks of course, no-one knew what to say, where to look, what will he do next, a german at loose with a dose of joy to spread, a melancolic poem perhaps he’ll burst into, some sort of militerischer gruppenubunk or kinds, leitmotif opera probably, perhaps we aren’t sure.
so then, herr brekt said, we shall proceed. a useful setting, not novel but suitable for one. second pun.
some sort of, said sponge.
idea, said breadroll.
dada is when we do add some message, herr brekst said. like the environment. we could also hurt religious feelings.
global warming, said sponge. splendid, herr brekst said. we won’t go any further.
q: who is sallytokk?
a: with regard to given heading i’d like to utter that a swallow, at least in europa, is a badly chosen image fullstop. if one sucks the poison of balance sheets the fangs of an adder will kill him. touch spreadsheets and you shall expand.
q: a rather grimm place they’ve come across, the city with corners without any shops at all. let’s see how they cope with it.
a: no, that is not fair questioning at all. we have been plunged into this with no warning whatsoever and ever since tried to cope as best we can.
q: you object fnn this statement rather vigourously — now there’s an ugly looking word — so what is the matter.
if they go left they would find a corner and to the right a street with another corner right after it. not to mention other corners in sight.
i suppose the usual witty comment, said breadroll, to follow; i for one would like to be buttered. he could easily say that for even though buttering him was a considerably nasty affair for all parties involved the lack of butter and shops to buy butter made buttering a faintly imaginable activity. i think i see a shop.
words like this won’t make it far.
fnnn fnnfnnfnn fnn fn fnnn.
did you close the drawer or did i, said blokkk “brutality” wokk.
you did, said breadroll, or did i? he wasn’t there anyway. and: slurrdshh; had butter all over him. one of those mornings of rushed sexuality.
he should have left a note, said blokkk, still letter-k-ayed.
whatever you say or do or think of doing or saying, do it or say it or think of doing or saying it with great care and in an educated manner as a phone is no toy.
did we agree on doing something with phones, said breadroll.
on phones, said sponge. we maybe using them so we do something with them on them.
was that agreed, said block of wood.
exactly: subject to further discussions.
exactly, said sponge, the free channel, that’s what we stanf dor.
thought we would notice? thought we think everyone has a spellcheck these days so i must be meant to? nah, no such thought. that what we stand for. unpaired goals. you must have an email about it.
i have developed a thing with it but i love to be cc-ed in, certainly.
and if i bcc-ed you in?
not now you see but let’s txt.
something, said breadroll, something. something in her reminded me of something, made me think not only of but ooof her and was not her well-stuffed purse for she was naked.
naked, said sponge, as in stark?
as in buck. yes.
the man who had had a hat went swimming in the sea one day. on his way to the beach he found a coin. after his swim he went to town and bought a new hat but not with the coin he had found as this would not have been enough.
that seems exciting enough, herr brekst said, we should have a jar or two to mark to occasion, maybe three.
done, said sponge.
whatever happened to the fat lady, breadroll said eventually.
no idea, said sponge, still there perhaps.
who did she want to talk to anyway, said breadroll.
have no idea, said sponge, surely we have a policy for that.
why don’t we just ask her?
very unprofessional. what if you ask and it wasn’t you she’s looking for? you talked to her without her wanting to talk to you.
that would not be good.
not good no.
a matter of policy.
it did not go down too well, said breadroll, with the birds, they are a bit quiet this morning.
yes, said block of wood, bit quiet.
tea or, said sponge, coffee.
to have a good start in the day they decided to review the layout of the breakfast items on the breakfast table.
coffee would be, said breadroll, great. i’ll have tea. green.