TE23 Double Feature

River Clyde

Simone Buchholz

smokers.

and so do I, a bit at least, the light casts my shadow on the asphalt, and I look like my head’s covered in briars, but I reckon that makes me fit into the landscape pretty well. Some gravestones here are in a pretty similar state, hairstyle-wise; there’s one, for instance, where the ivy’s broken through the adornments, the moss has eaten its name, and its overall situation is slanting but stable. On some it’s only a tip, but others are missing whole sections, there are broken fruit baskets and laurel wreaths, a lot of the gravestones have simply fallen over. Some Lord Somebody, sitting high on a plinth donated by a few of his friends, has a nose missing. The rain, the wind and the weather gnaw away at the stones, nature chips away at everything, she makes her way back bit by bit just as soon as the people are out of the way, she takes over 247 Most of the monuments are missing something.

‘Hey! You keep spilling the stuff on my shirt, man!’

‘Then take your shirt off.’

The First One to Move Is Dead

I just kept following the road, the old, tall tenement buildings left and right, with their dummy windows. Now there’s this cemetery on a massive hill. At the entrance there’s a sign, on the sign it says Necropolis . City of the Dead. Someone’s sprayed Beware of the Dead on a brick wall. Maybe, I think, I’ll get on better among the dead than among the living. The late-afternoon sun tears a hole in the clouds and pours yellow light over statues and gravestones, the stones stretch up to heaven, 246