On an odyssey over an apple — Part 1
A travelers short story inspired by his journeys
I’m sitting in the back of a vehicle full of junk. A veritable soup of soaked paper cups remains of long-gone meals and other unrecognizable things I don’t even want to think about, occupy the floor. The hodgepodge probably explains the unpleasant, strangely familiar but pungent smell in the stuffy air.
How can the driver recognize something in this crowded car?
What prevents him from falling asleep? He, the old sleeping pill! He seems threateningly close to falling asleep. At least he hasn’t noticed so far that the cassette, which had previously been playing odd, repetitive music, has been emitting nothing but a bright hissing and an annoying sounding of metallic chatter for a few minutes now.
But it seems impossible to make him aware of it. I do not speak his language and if I’m moving towards the front from my place in the backseat, one of these stacks piling up could collapse and bury me.
I find myself framed on my seat by veritable towers of impossible constructions, made up of piles of boxes and cartons, which in turn were built on heaps of metal and plastic.
I have been giving one of these towers my undivided attention for some time now, it threatens to fall at any…
