He was the wind. He swept round her. Cool and soothing.
A day later he was Lukas. Working as a call centre slave in Düsseldorf.
In the afternoon he would wander – one day, full of longing, he wandered into a large neo‑classical building with the letters ARTIBUS above the entrance. He was looking for something that could shake him, but nothing presented itself. It was here he met her.
She was stone. She sat on top of him that night.
A day later she was Sibylle. Working as a secretary at an office where the cultural activities of the municipality were coordinated.
In the evenings she would stroll – one evening she went into a toilet in a small café in the outskirts of the city. In the space where the toilet should have been, she found a large crack in the floor from which white smoke rose. She experienced a slight headache, but nevertheless tried to defecate into the hole, one hand on the floor to stabilise her two legs.
He was smoke. He made her see things.
A day later he was Fabian. Working as a computer programmer in a large software house in Houston, Texas.
In the nights he felt despair. He would take pills to make it go away – one night he took too many pills. Although he was sitting on his sofa he felt like he was standing by the ocean – it was morning – the sun low in the sky. He was never sure if he had really seen her standing naked on the rocks.
She was salt water. She changed his life.
A day later she was Astrid – she awoke early in a small wooden house on a rocky island. It was dead hard to get out of bed. She had no job. She lived with her husband, who did not have a job either. The first thing she thought of in the morning was money.
Her children were already up. She could hear them playing among the trees. Eventually she stood up and went outside – naked in the light midsummer morning.
He swept round her. Cool and soothing. He was the wind.
I took a few rounds of circular editing with this one. The puzzle fanatic took over.