I founds a scimitar and poked through the skin which revealed a dense mass of garbage like vegetables and waste kitchen material releasing an awful stench of decay.
Was this "their" way of disposing of waste?
I walked on and the moon got out shining over large expanses of concrete and bricks, parks and slums, churches and canals.
In the distance I saw lit trolleycars and autobuses driving along and I sought some stop where I might board one of them to take
me to the Central Station, where I knew most of them converged and from where I planned to take a bus to my parent's house in Amstelveen.
But invariably, there were no conveyances when I got there, and instead I got trapped into a slum of low houses and piles of debris
where shabbily dressed women and children were sorting through the garbage and shouted rank comments to me when I passed by.
Then I stopped in some club where a large half empty concrete basement had some automats for food.
By that time I was starving but there were no servers or for that sake any people to be seen except for a small group of strange looking party goers at one of the tables, who paid absolutely no attention to me.
I tried to work one of the dispensers but could not get anything out. I was distressed and frustrated and dreadfully hungry and thirsty,
so when the group left, again without paying any attention to me, I followed them in despair and listened to the big clown
who was the center of their attention. It was now dawning outside and rather chilly. The party I followed disppeared suddenly
and I was all alone again. It struck me that I did not see any cats or dogs or birds at all, and that I seemed to be like the last survivor
I kept on walking and walking towards the dawn but I did not recognize my surroundings anymore.
My main concern, strangely, was to wake up and remember the atmosphere so I could record it before I would forget it.
So that is what I did and this is what is was like. Do I want to go back there? I guess not!
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