Life is too short for boring stories

“That’s exactly it,” the director said happily, “That’s how I imagined it, so run-down, lifeless, populated only by a few old day people who are just waiting to die. What an ambiance. The background for the film. So, and now to our task”, he turned to the hopeful young creative people, “You are the chosen ones who graduated from the film academy with honors. I’ll tell you right away, that’s not the end of the story, because whether you’ve really got what it takes is shown here, on the set. Each of you has a chance, don’t forget that. If you don’t meet the expectations, you can sit down with the half-mummified. Everything clear?” A murmur of approval went through the ranks. Or rather, the row, because there were three of the chosen ones. The director, who didn’t like all three of them, was satisfied, which now had nothing to do with them personally, but was due to the fact that he himself hadn’t even passed the entrance exam for the film academy, let alone an award.

First of all, let’s begin with Roman. The person addressed stepped forward and let his idea come to life. “A small village whose name has been forgotten, far from any civilization. The streets and squares are deserted. Gradually all the young, then the half-young and finally those who were still able to work moved away. The old people were left behind, who could not or did not want to move. ‘Come to town with us,’ the children had said, and breathed a sigh of relief when the old people flatly refused. The wind drove through the main street, towards a circular square, the center of which was a tall pillar, straight and upright, surrounded by a cobbled ring lined with benches. Every bank was occupied by an old woman. Just like they had learned during Corona. One and one per bank. Carrying the heaviness of abandonment and the dust of years and decline, the wind circled the square, blanketing the elderly with another layer of dust, to turn back onto the main street on the other side. Desolation. No sound pierced the stillness after the wind had gone. There was no shop, no inn, not even a priest. Here one could only wait for death. Suddenly a zombie dragged himself onto the main street, dressed in a tattered red and black leather jacket, positioned himself in the middle of the street. This was followed by many other zombies getting into formation and Thriller by Michael Jackson played. The train of zombies started to move, the elders trailing behind until they reached the cemetery where the graves had already been prepared. The zombies led them there, the old people lay down in them. Each and everyone in her or his own, because of Corona, to avoid infection.” So much for Roman’s story. “And who is digging up the graves? The zombies?” spat the director, “Other than that is all but creative. Who else can see or hear this Michael Jackson stuff? Not a bit of effort. Sit with the old ones. You are outside. The next. Julia. And please spare us that with the wind and the old houses and the missing infrastructure, we already know that. So, Julia took Romans place and laid out her approach. “At the point where the road meets the square, Rescuewoman, the super rescuer, appeared in her super rescuer costume, with a cape of course and her super rescuer case, her hand held up. The old ones sat and remained unimpressed. A brilliant performance that nobody noticed. ‘Oh dear people, are you already so jaded that you don’t burst into cheers when I appear. But I will change that as soon as possible,’ she promised. With that she took down her super rescuer arm, because even a super rescuer needs two arms to be able to rescue efficiently, opened the suitcase and took out her super rescuer powder, which she sprinkled first over the old people and then over the houses. In no time the old people threw off their sicknesses and weaknesses and moved like 25-year-olds. The houses shone in fresh splendor and shops opened their doors. The supermarket, the bakery, the cafe and above all the nail salon. A super rescuer could never forget to go to the nail salon. People flocked to the place and populated it, revived it. The place became an insider tip and flourished. Super rescuer looked at her work with satisfaction, then lifted the super rescuer’s arm again and walked away. Your great help was needed elsewhere. Here it was finished.” And so was Julia, whereupon she looked expectantly at the director.

Go to part 2 here.




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