Morning Stories
When the first word pops into my head in the morning, these spontaneous stories emerge. Without a plan. But with fun.
My Stomach and I
A Morning Splinter Story Today. Yesterday. Tomorrow. People and their history are turned upside down. Or headless. I can't carry on. I won't carry on. I don't want to carry on. Woodstock is Waterloo.Legal. Equal. Equality.
GAL? Could this be the ultimate core of justice? The hardcore gene of civilized society? Could well be – because these three letters, GAL, hide inside many a meaningful word. Is it even egal if a book about Égalité sits legal and regal on the gallery shelf in Portugal? Too much of a good GAL? Well, maybe – but that is not the least bit illegal.
Three. And. A. Half. Per. Cent.
"Your story today is political again, Christian." Hmm. True. But that wasn't intentional — there was no deliberate plan to make this story political. Why? Because the perfectly ordinary lives we all lead always carry political weight.
What’s going on?
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