By two AM all the sadness was gone. Heldenplatz, Wien. That’s where I stood all alone, listening to Sigur Ros and waiting (just for a second) for snow. It took me another hour to finally reach home by foot. It took me another 30 minutes to finally feel my hands and my nose again. It might take another day to get my voice back which I lost somewhere between ABBA and Elton John in an empty art gallery. Karaoke saved my soul. Again.
The sadness was still gone this morning when I woke up because a chimney sweeper rang the door bell. A chimney sweeper with very old and very dirty glasses. I always wonder what kind of people choose this profession and I always imagine them as people who liked magic tricks when they were children. The chimney sweeper looked at me while I was coughing and told me to go back to bed. I nodded and for some seconds I had the urgent wish to touch his arm.
After I closed the door behind him I realised that I didnt wish him a happy new year so I shouted these words through the already closed door. The chimney sweeper who apparently still stood behind it shouted the same back. I guess nothing bad can happen now.
Nothing at all.