Trafika Europe 2 - Polish Nocturne


A Greyhound bus leaves the Chicago station. A couple of students install their laptops on their jeansy thighs. Images of abysmal and cavernous canyons lit by the setting sun cover their computer screens. Earphones in their ears, laptops on their laps. The boy and the girl in tandem watch the same film. Hours, miles and landscapes pass by. Outside of the bus window, on the grassy lowlands of Indiana, sorrel and piebald horses romp around a mirror- like pond. “If you open your eyes, you can see heaven on earth,” says an elderly gentleman to an elderly lady sitting by the window, who offers him cherries. “I should limit eating while traveling because my internal organs are damaged by psychotropic drugs since the Vietnam War. But I’m tempted.” The students write digital letters, send text messages, enlarge images, diminish the letter-size of texts. Flashing, flickering, fluttering. The boy stretches his torso, straightens his arms, moves his head to the sides. “What a handsome barn,” the elderly woman says while they are passing a red barn amid the hills of Ohio. “The queen of the farm,” the veteran says.


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