I lie on my back on the raft and visualize the stars, teasing little stitches, slowly forming into myriads of dots. I think of disappearances and the disappeared. Have I ever lost something in my life?? Amazing, I can only think of the socks, the shear, the coffee spoons and the keys. Once we had a blackbird nest, in the gutter above my nursery, for about a week, and. But then it was gone. My school bike, the pink Julia, was gone one morning, then I walked to school with the heavy history book in my backpack, but, later, when we had history lesson, my history book was gone. Several of my scarves disappeared. I do not know, if it was the wind, who snatched her from me, when I was on Jakobli, my second school bike to the school building, early in the morning. The cold burned his skin, it was still half dark, I saw, that my rear bike light was gone, went to the coffee machine in the auditorium, watched, like a fifty-centime piece disappeared in the slit, whereupon I quickly downed the watery coffee. I had to buy a new history book, for fifty francs, and then we opened it up again, where we stopped, in the last lesson. This was a place with a lot of war material, many battles, with Prussia, Napoleon and the Versailles Treaty. But I don't remember, that we ever went through the missing people in this book, who disappeared on the death marches or fleeing across the Pyrenees, the vanished towns and villages of the Sudetenland with their vanished children, the approximately thirty-five thousand Desaparecidos, who disappeared between nineteen sixty and nineteen ninety, the disappeared mass graves of Srebrenica, the fate of the disappeared indigenous people in North America or the disappeared of the Algerian war. We didn't go through all that and much more, only historical facts, never the people. Maybe that's why I always slept in history class!?
(1.7.22)