A late Sunday afternoon, as the evening approaches, a black
cloud appears thrusting City into a state of culpability, the
injunction of wellness and self-fulfillment sneaking into the
domestic cocoon: as Shuum opens his door, the cloud
sneaks into the vases, pots of flowers, tables and furniture's
beautifying his living room, hiding quietly under his
couches and beds.
Waking up from a late evening snooze, he felt more
octopusly than ever, looking at the smooth shape of his
pillows glaring at the last sun rays hitting the window,
Home felt evil.
Home is tiny apartment in City suburbs, walls covered in
flowery papers. It has been a long Summer in City. Shuum
is tired from a week of work and didn't notice Black Smoke
entering Home confused by the heat.
As Summer City approaches his skin, producing a thin
patina of sweat, Shuum realized he could not remember
when it last rained: the heat brought it smells in City and
that's what people started talking about, the smell of
dumpsters behind cost cutters that filled the high street.
It felt like the heat made the things in City speak, Shuum
told himself, so not to mind the heat. But people were
bristling down the street: women with bags off their arms
sunglasses slipping from greasy hair, cars skidding out of
turns late at night, a big guy shouting from a top of a
window as girls go past; mixed with the smells of cars,
petrol, sticky iron tastes on your tongue and flowers
decaying by the bins in the market.
But Shuum was still Home lying on Couch. Home was
silent. Home was comfortable, apart from Black Smoke
sneaking under couches beds and pillows whispering
"Imagination is the power that enables to perceive the
normal in the abnormal" then began scratching, scratching
his belly very hard very hard against the wall with the
scene collapsing over.
2nd scenetta, 06 04 2020
There is a second scene which starts with Shuum moving to
Balcony smiling at Sun. As Sun huge eyes come to occupy
all of his thoughts, Shuum felt behind a cloud where
possibilities is totally limited, where potential, potential for
control or change is a fiction. While Shuum remained in
silence, staring down at Streets looking like gigantic movie
screens, some City inhabitants were passing.
“Imagine how tortured they could be behind their looks”
Black Smoke whispered.
On Balcony as City was covered in Black Smoke, Shuum
buried his ears under his skin, trying not to listen, turning
outside-in, enjoying impotent anger, he remained still, the
closest he could come to refusing. As time passed, Shuum
slowly came to be occupied by the image in his head that he
was a horse. Skin partly ripped off, and red muscles
exposed. Men with huge sticks keep beating the horse. The
men beat the horse to make it run faster. There is a voice in
City which tells people to run faster and faster it says “it
can be rewarding“. It rewards things they would ever have
considered worth rewarding. Like following a law, like
keeping a long time posture.
As Balcony reappeared from Shuum’s mind, his arms were
shaking towards Skies and Clouds, his Skin stretching
towards Sun before entering back Home, the second scene
3rd scenetta, 06 04 2020
The third scene begins with Shuum meeting Coli.
Shuum meeting Coli on Subway
On Subway Shuum and Coli began talking so much that it
felt Shuum became Coli. Coli became Shuum. The words
allotted them for moment to become one so that it felt
nobody was anyone and there were only feelings.
Followed by Sun, to run away from Black Smoke they took
a drove around City up to Hill. In top of it got dark, for
the 1st time all day they felt a slight kind of openness.
Escape is vestigial, just like the wild.
4th scenetta, 12 04 2020
The fourth scene is settled in a City Park.
Shuum now separated from Coli, his head laying on a tree.
He spent time out here for days, smelling rank when the
sky's blue, and very bunched up when it's stared and cold.
How can he possibly know shit? This is the lame
conclusion he's reached, drawn by eerily dumb revolving
Everything is just the result of the sun gradually eating the
Even that idea is too rigorous for his brain. He thought he's
nothing much, a small town boy. Now it's him and City
again. He can't ignore the fact, seeing as how it's so
gigantically around him. Not just the things he can see. He
means the world beyond the park, down the roads, up to
Sun and through the villages where people exist like trees,
bushes, grass growing unevenly on either side of his head.
Maybe they'd move around more, but less meaningfully
than the tiniest thing he had seen in the woods. That's would
be ideal not to want anything, even to eat food or shit it
back out, and being by himself in a shack with his stuff, and
everything would be able to talk, so his shirt would be as
cool as his friends. Everything would have the same
consciousness, and pretty close to the same flat voice, no
mind, no instinctual shit, just movements and ideas that fit
in a pattern too simple to notice.
All these movements through the green wide mountains,
down to City Suburbs, through the animals, plants and
funghi living City Park come together in Shuum's head,
which lay motionless on a wall, going now empty,
completely empty, drifting, spinning slowly through his
finger into the soil.
5th scenetta, 16 04 20
Thus Shuum was left to himself and to the sound of the
jiggling three until some storm would move him twenty feet
away and his world would change and he'd get to know new
blades of grass and new dirt and new flies or whatever. He
wouldn't die just change. Dry out, get wet, smell one way,
smell another. No boredom, no love, no fear, no being
broken, no nothing, maybe that's what will happen to City
one day, everybody just collapsing where they are and
never see, feel, or do anything and eventually everyone will
lose sight of each other's existence and just become lumps
of nature, small smelly things lying out in some bush or on
a smelly floor, stupid things drifting through history, no
worse or no better than trees or bugs.