Resort Alles ist so gleich Füreinander bestimmt Alle sind so reich Und jeder gewinnt Alles ist privat Es gibt keine Politik Nur ein bisschen Staat Der beschützt dann unser Glück Und wir bleiben jung Denn Geschichte geht zu Ende Und die andern müssen wandern Wir hör´n sie Durch die Wände × Resort Everything is much alike Destined for each other Everyone is so whealthy And everybody wins There is no politics Just a little state That protects our happiness And we remain young Because history comes to an end And the others have to migrate We hear them through the walls There is no gate

The eleven of us had left the cabin behind to go nd someplace else. It was our blessing routine to split forces. After passing the teeing ground, me, I turned off onto a road bordered by a wire fence on this side and a wall on the other. No space designated for a pedestrian. Its only use was in the service of connecting two suburban areas. Precisely because of this unmistakable advantage, my road had a secondary quality. Precisely because there was no place for one to stay, cars parked every few ve hundred Feet. The drivers stopped because here, they were off the record. They wanted to eat their roll, or their rissole, or their Caesar salad in secrecy behind the open car door. Ready to escape they would drink their lter coffee from the thermos, iced tea from the tumbler, zzy lemonade from the days they were still children. I passed a dumped radiator and as if on cue I entered the grove at a right angle. In doing so, I had a feeling that I attribute to cats. Cats are bound to act as if they are their own master, especially when they are being observed. As for me, intentional— feline—nonchalance comes with burning cheeks. Being watched by people who want to take their break alone at all costs, my cheeks were ne. But my right angle move surely looked comical. For the next step I had to prevent an evergreen clematis from bringing me down. I know that stuff. You can practice smoking with it. When we were still pupils, my humble half-portioned self has made every effort to remain undetected in the school- yard. Normally I would stare at my feet nonchalantly and not make a sound. This way, I hoped, the cool kids wouldn’t put me in one of the camps. I was dead sure I t best in the camp of the ridiculed. However, although my knowledge about the evergreen clematis was dangerous—not for our health or facing a parental tribunal, but because of the temper of the gang in charge—it burst out of me: “I can show you!” Suddenly it was me leading them all to the river bank where that stuff grew in our village. There we plucked out lianas and cut the stems pocket-size. On the way back to the schoolyard, I got shit-scared: “Target detection skyrockets from Zero to One!” To in nite if you like. Four years of work undone. Because I thought the child on whose carrier I was riding would want to keep up with the other bikers and would never listen to me, I did not ask for a stop. I touched down at full speed with my feet on the ground to dismount. Of course, I swung forward with full force. Unwaveringly, the child rode off together with the gang. Here I was now, deep in the vines. I stared at my feet and didn’t make a sound, and I disappeared in front of the driver’s eyes. The vines would make up for a good hut. —