 |
 |
I'm with Patrick! It made me remember when in my early 20s I found myself on a bus round 5 am with the early workers in Florence in a pink dress and nothing else, how distant from everything I felt, with a melange of guilty feelings, alienation, incapacity of getting through it all when I finally made it back home. Kasper's story is much happier. On Jan 20, 2008 11:51 AM, Roger Day <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Good piece this and I like Andrew's suggestion. > > Roger > > On Jan 20, 2008 4:03 AM, kasper salonen <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > > I just had a miniature adventure. > > I'd been drinking with my friend Johannes all evening; whiskey > > (Tullamore Dew, the best in the world) & brandy (which my buddy had > > won at work) & jaloviina (look it up). > > I left Helsinki train station at 01:42. I had about 8 stations to go > > through before arriving at my own, Rekola. a small, serene affair with > > a bridge on one side & our house -- my current home -- on the other. > > instead I slept through an additional 8 stations & ended up at a > > station whose name translates rather directly to 'Blossom-castle'. it > > wasn't anything like a castle. it was tiny & wet & frightening. the > > wind was blowing harder than I'd ever remembered it blowing, & the two > > small shelters (on opposite sides of the track) had walls that were > > grilled & so kept the wind out very inefficiently. I waited at this > > pitiful castle for an hour -- I hid under a bridge, among cobblestones > > & dirty pillars, to escape from the wind. then I crept out & got on > > the train (the time was 03:33) and traveled to the end of the line, > > which was closer than my own destination in the opposite direction. > > there I would wait for half an hour for the train to take me home. not > > drunk enough to not be pissed off, but almost. > > > > at that station, whose name translates rather directly as 'Kiln-hill', > > I met a girl (my age, 21) who's name was Jasmin. she had a family with > > 4 brothers, & her parents wanted to give her a name that stood out. it > > does, & I like it; though I didn't have the heart to tell her it felt > > like a hooker's name. mainly because she didn't remind me of a hooker > > at all; she was pretty, & young, but self-assured. she seemed to > > appreciate the humour & fatedness of the night; she used public > > transportation very seldom, but this was the second time she'd fallen > > asleep on the train & zoomed (way) past her own intended stop. she > > came to me, a little groggy, & asked me where she was -- we were. I > > told her. she was talkative but not in the annoying, precocious way > > some teenagers can be. she was delightful. I felt at ease talking to > > her. her face was small & delicate, her hair was neatly tied back with > > an orange bandana. she looked comfortable, with herself & otherwise. > > we waited at the station for a moment, swearing & cursing our > > dim-witted luck. then we boarded the train which left momentarily. > > > > on the train we chatted. it was chatter, even though she wasn't > > empty-headed (I associate chatter, chatting, with empty-headedness). > > she hadn't gone to high school but to a trade school where she'd > > studied to be a clothier. she didn't want to be a clothier, but a ... > > I forget. > > > > we drank corkfuls of my whiskey (Tullamore Dew, the best in the world) > > & chatted. we woke a sleeping man, concerned that he would miss his > > stop -- it was what she (& I) would have wished other passengers had > > done to her (& me) when we'd nodded off. she'd nodded off for TWO > > HOURS. she wondered at this. > > > > I was to leave off at Rekola (from the swedish 'Räckhals', which > > translates rather directly as 'craning neck'), one stop before > > Koivukylä, 'Birch-village'. but she asked me, off-hand, if I'd like to > > get off with her at the latter. I agreed. we stepped off, lit > > cigarettes. we alked over a bridge where Jasmin told me she was going > > in an opposite direction. she kissed me on the cheek -- I kissed her > > on her cheek also, saying, "ranskalaisittain". (translated rather > > directly as "as the french do it"). she laughed & left. I left. here I > > am. > > > > this is all true. it happened within the last 5 hours. > > it was quite fun. > > if this narrative was at all in the manner of K. Vonnegut, it's > > because I've just re-read 'Slaughter-House 5'. > > > > KS > > > > > > -- > My Stuff: http://www.badstep.net/ > "She went out with her paint box, paints the chapel blue > She went out with her matches, torched the car-wash too" > The Go-Betweens > -- Anny Ballardini http://annyballardini.blogspot.com/ http://www.fieralingue.it/modules.php?name=poetshome http://www.moriapoetry.com/ebooks.html I Tell You: One must still have chaos in one to give birth to a dancing star!