6 August 2008

Gösta's blues

Gösta tries to walk some things out of his system. A gang of hammered toughies swagger outside Bristol. One of the hoodlums hollers "SAATANA" while his mate verbalizes his anxieties by shouting, on the top of his lungs: "cunts, it's the fucking KARJALAISUUS". Gösta walks down to the river, trying to forget the strange conversation today, about what can be profited on, humans (everything). He clutched the Marx book to his chest like a teddybear.
Not much is left of the ship yard anymore. A sign: No trespassing. A few buildings. There's a nice path through the woods, but Gösta has forgotten where it is.
The sun sets on good & wicked alike. Gösta remembers stuff. It's darker now. Gösta thinks he smells rotten leaves, but it is only some garbage lying around.
Gösta does not know what this is. Do you?

Gösta tries to peek inside, and what he sees looks like a space ship. Gösta enrolls to leave.
This is romance in the outskirts of Turku. This is why Gösta loves this town, because there are places like this.

No comments: