The Bottle
The bottle was on the table when I entered. It was transparent and the water in it crystal clear. You could only feel it was full of water because it was heavy. I took it in my hands and curled my whole body around it, tried to shake it but couldn’t because it was filled to the brim. My hands and feet were cold as if there was ice water flowing.

It was on a Sunday in September and the bottle was the fresh water of a fountain when I opened it. I went under the table to feel the cold water on my body. Even now a hot shower is always followed by a cold shower but the water was no more clear. It was rather cloudy and warm. Everything was now blurred and beclouded or even muddy.

I emptied it, cleaned it and filled it with fresh water. Still it refused to look like before. I emptied it again and thought perhaps the water I filled in was not fresh and clear. But no matter how often I washed it and refilled it, it was a glassy dark or reddish clot.

Bremen, June 2009