Computerprint, Tinte auf Papier | 30 x 20 cm
Computerprint, ink on paper | 12 x 8 inches
scroll down for English translation
translated by Marlies Ruß
Around Christmas, he came over for dinner twice. Since he
had moved to London, we had been seeing him even more than
before, or maybe just more intensively. First, we tried to
persuade ourselves that surely it wasn’t anything serious,
just a case of being overworked, too much stress, etc. When
he didn’t come to work Monday morning without even calling
in sick, it should have been obvious that something was
really wrong. But, hey, he doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke.
It actually was a stroke. At age 34. Somehow, there had been
a rupture in some artery. Somehow.
After twelve days, he showed first signs of improvement. He
was able to wiggle one foot a little bit. This gave
rise to hopes for a short while.
By then, however, communication by blinking already hadn’t
been working all that well any more for a week.
Things always seem to end before they start.