Untitled (for me, not you)

2011/03/24 § 1 Comment

It is so fascinating to look through the computer
for old excerpts of text written by me a long time ago. This one most likely came to life in a dull autumns history class, listening to my teacher droning away on the topic of the Cuban crisis. Or perhaps it was a recollection of a dream.

I sensed Fidel whisper to me from the seat behind mine. “You want to see something?” I turned around and he lifted up his shirt to show off a package of bombs fastened around his waist. “I am going to blow up when we get to the US. Talk me out of it.” I looked around at the rest of the students on the train. “You will never make it past the security check”, I told him. “Well,” he answered me, “that is a better place than no place.” I was thinking about the Norwegian security check, which came before the American one, but decided to keep silent. He smiled and disappeared. I reached over to the person in front of me. “Fidel and his bomb are going to explode when we get to the US”, I told her. She looked at me, shocked. “We have to stop this.” I nodded, and turned back to Fidel who had just returned from the toilet. “There’s nothing like some marijuana to brighten up the mood”, he laughed. He started to sing a song in Spanish. Several people had gathered around us, frightened whispers clouded my mind as I tried to come up with a way out of it.

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