Drosophila – short story
A river flows through the forest and we are stomping through it. Ready for the biggest adventures that await us along the way. Our eyes are scanning the bottom of the river. Maybe some fish or even hidden treasures lurk down there. Who may own this boot that sits enthroned on the boulder? Whatever, at least you can use it very well as a projectile. While still in flight, I scream “Boot at six o’clock!” and thus, the water battle begins.
Silence.
We are folding the paper. The airmen are ready to go. The alarm rings. Seven fighter jets take off at the same time. The winner will be who lands up the furthest. Or who scores a hit at the monster that is trying to escape. We have five minutes to complete our mission.
Luminous displays.
A long street spreads out between family houses. Bright colors are sprawling all the way up. Slowly the asphalt canvas takes on all colors. A mosaic of castles and dragons, gnomes and fairies, suns and flowers, hearts and pirate ships arises. Remains alive until the next rain creates space for new colors.
Rain sucks.
The highest mountain is being climbed. Firmly holding the sled in one hand and the brother’s hand in the other. As we reach the top we place the sled on the edge of the steepest slope. We align it to our destination: the self-made snow ramp, which will hopefully take us to the moon. Mixed with fear and courage, we rely on our Sledgomat 3000 and start the most exciting ride of our lives.
Fucking cold.
The doorbell rings. My mom opens the door and I am being called to an adventure trip. I’m running outside, Mom shouts: “You’re back by dinner!” and I dive into the world of princesses, knights, explorers, pokemons, potion brewers and trappers. There is enough time until dinner.
Do you have time these days?
No, this month is really stressful. Maybe next?
I’ll be on a business trip.
We have not seen each other for ages.
It somehow used to be easier back then.
[message has been sent]
Written by
Merisa Ferati and Michael Gröning
