Bromford Below - Part 22

 
»Where have you been this whole time, young man?«

She cannot be here. She was eighty-two years old when I first visited her in her Apartment 22 on the thirteenth floor of the apartment-house at 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside. And she was ninety years old when she passed away two years ago and I attended her funeral ceremony on the Jewish graveyard in the North of the town.

»Rachel, what are you doing here?« I ask.

»Whatever we are doing in this ghost train, we are not speaking our Mothers' tongues«, the old lady says with a strange grin.

She looks so small and thin as she is sitting in her subway seat. And she looks like she is freezing. You want to go and hug her, hold her warm and in this world.

»The wars are getting colder these days«, she says.

And I don't know if this is true when the weapons keep on firing. Hotter, I think, everything is getting hotter these days, the battles, the climate, everything.

»Do you believe in the world below?« Rachel Goldzweig asks.

»Do you mean this world of tunnels and sewers below cities like Bromford?«

»Maybe«, she says. »I have seen worse times and places like this, you know. And when you try to hide you sometimes decent into a world below where you become invisible for the world above. Look at all those homeless people in the streets. Haven't they become invisible for most of the so-called normal people? And when they see them it is only as a disturbance of order and calm and cleanliness.«

»If I may ask, how old you are, Rachel?«

»If I may say, Bromford Bibble, who cares? And does it matter? I was old twelve years ago and I am older now. But the world below is way older. Did you know there lives a big lion under my hometown Dresden and a giant bear under Berlin? All we have to do is to be careful not to disturb the world and the beings below. Live and let live, that is a good motto, I think. Don't you think?«

Now, I kind of remember a pack of wolves that used to live in their derns beneath Rome, descendants of the she-wolf that nursed and sheltered Remus and his twin brother Romulus, founder of the Eternal City of Rome. There were rumours those wolves attacked Vatican City one night when the Pope was away.

»But do you want to know what the real monster is that is hunting us in the dark and that will bring us down in the end? It is time. Time is the dark threat that is eating and taking away the past. Time is ticking away, time is running out. Time is trickling like sand through an hourglass. At the hour of our births we've been given a certain amount of time measured in years, months, days, hours and seconds. And whatever we do we cannot keep it together. We cannot save it, we cannot kill it. In the end it will run through our hands and we will stop being.«

I shake my head. I am still in denying. I know that there lie more days and years behind than in front of me. But come on, we have all the time in the world, time enough for life to unfold.

»Don't cry for me, Bromford Bibble«, Rachel Goldzweig says. »I have died a long time ago. And I was happy when Death of the Endless, daughter of Lord Time and sibling to Dream, lord over all dreams and reality, came by to pick me up.«

When I look at her and see how she is sitting in her subway seat she seems to get paler, almost translucent. She is fading away with the hint of a smile on her face and a slight wave, while something is drawing me away from her to the next waggon.

It is time.

🎄🎄🎄🕯🎄🎅
🎄🎄🎄🎄🕯🎄

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🕯

🎄🎄⛄🎄

"The Ballad Of The Bromford Novotel"

No scream, no smile
No nothing for me
It's so hot that I can't breathe
Nine stone two and six foot three
Rats are crawling on my feet
Shrivel to nothing for the company
Lizards and geckos cover me
Military Police are after me
But everybody else seems so happy

Mini sized apples filled with disease
Even the water tastes like tea
On a diet of Gaviscon
Look at me I'm fucking gone
A light watch, my time today
Madonna's fucking on the car again
On the phone ten times a day
Hiding under the table again

Breakfast, my mouth tastes like piss
Masturbation, there's nothing left
In a daze, anorexic haze
Look outside and join the insane
The bug inside of me won't go
Egg and chips is all I want
So hungry I can taste home
Wake up screaming on all fours

Knocking knock knocking on my door
My life is a disaster
Giant ice cubes rolling on the floor
Someone help me dear God
Everybody has fake smiles
I am losing my fucking mind
I've had enough of being alone
I'd give anything to save my soul

I think that I have seen the Devil
Satan smiles at me in the mirror
Revolution in the Golden Palace
Four sickly boys are losing resistance
So much porn and alcohol
I'm so numb to my hormones
But my liberty is winning
Five years later I'm still shaking