Time of the muddy lagoon

Long days have gone. Days of carrying. Sleeping. Driving, flying, freezing.

But there we are, where we have been so often. Just now, the road is bumpy and I’m coming straight out of the water of the deep blue lagoon close to venice. Muddy water, folks, that I can tell you.

I stopped counting the Spritz and the red skinned yelling tourists, each at fivehundred. Until a certain number this all is so funny. Lights are blinking and Sunday is waiting.

But just a few word about my lagoon: As mentioned already, it was muddy. Muddy and cold. And there were big fish who worship dirt. The now logical question, why it’s still dirty: Friends, I have no idea. There was a crab called seamus. He lost one eye and spoke lousy italian. From time to time I joined my friends at the “Caffe rosso” to have a chat, but after a while I longed for the silence of the sea. Again.

~ by zkar on May 3, 2008.