sixwordstories | (no subject)

Mm, yes, I know how that is.

Everything is basically horrible.

Everything?

EVERYTHING.

God. I have this table, you see. And this table has one leg which is shorter than all the others. So if you put something on the table or lean on it, it shifts and makes this *klunk* sound against the floor. This is one of the many, many thing that is unbearable in this world.

*considers this*

Why not stuff a stack of extra papers underneath the leg?

The cat will eat them.

... A new table, perhaps?

We can't afford one. Which is odd since we can afford a lot of other useless shit.

Write something, then? Or draw...

I’m trying. *sighs* My inspiration does not come so easy. I must be whipped into a frenzy, like a sybil.

To be honest, I’m very very worried, Hanschen. I don’t like what is happening.

More than your usual worry?

What have you heard, Engel?

*rubs his brow* You think I am usually worried? I say I'm not. I say I don't care what happens to me or anyone else but...I lie.

I've been in the pubs with the students, the young, people like us...they are restless. I have known this. They are restless and angry and distrustful of everything: their parents, their professors, the Reichstag, the world. They are looking for a revolution. I have heard this sort of talk for years, but for the first time, it frightened me.

We have been sons rebeling against our fathers. I think our fathers are about to strike against us.

Not outwardly always, but I can tell. You get this look around your eyes...

*frowns, thinking of his own father*

What sort of strike? I have not been keeping up with politics, I am afraid - I know this is a mark of ignorance, but I have been enjoying myself far too much to pay attention to such things.

But if you say it is so, I do believe you.

Surely though, it will not get so out of hand. We are harming no one here with what we do - everyone has a good time, where is the harm in that?

I don't know exactly. I don't keep up much either. I am not able to vote, so I don't see the point in it.

Of course most of it harms no one - although I'm sure all the cocaine will catch up to us eventually - but do you think your father would approve of it? Well, not all young people are like us. Some think like our fathers, but they have our passion and abandon.

*wrings hands*

I have considered leaving. But that's foolish, childish. Besides, where would I go?

*shakes head* It is foolish. I'm like child telling themselves frightening themselves by turning shadows into monsters.

Leaving? Leave Berlin? But you love it here... ~~If you go somewhere, take me with you~~ .

My father has never approved of anything I've done - I think he disapproved of me from the moment I was born.

Maybe the cocaine is catching up - when is the last time you have slept? Eaten? Maybe that is partly the cause of your worry, if you will forgive me for saying so.

Leave Germany. Everyone else in the world hates this place; maybe they’re on to something. Berlin is lovely, but there are other cities. But I have neither money nor connections. ~~Still, if you would ask, I would take you somewhere.~~

Mine too. But is there a German father whose son did not disappoint him?

*rubs his brow more thoroughly, sighs* You are right. These are just the exaggerations of a battered mind. I should try to sleep. And of course I forgive you, Hanschen. You take good care of me. You are my voice of reason.

What other city is like Berlin? What city in the world -- ah, but yes, you are tired. Of course things will be fine.

~~If only I were brave enough to ask...~~

And enough about fathers, and politics. You need rest.

*touches his shoulder* I could stay over? Read to you a while, perhaps - I may bore you to sleep if nothing else. I am sure you have a terribly uninteresting book somewhere in your apartment.

You may stay. And you could never bore me, but your voice is quite nice. Perhaps it will help.

*climbs in bed, then feels around underneath it until he comes up with a book in his hand*

Here. The Institutional Implications of Moral Cosmopolitanism.

*settles on the other side of the bed and takes the heavy book in hand*

I am not sure I can make it through this one without putting myself to sleep. Would this not serve better purpose as a doorstop - or holding up the third leg of that dreadful table you have?

Really, you should let Yuri fix that...

Anyhow, let's see... *thumbs through the book and begins to read in an exaggerated monotone*

"Moral cosmopolitanism is supposed to differ from institutional cosmopolitanism in that the former is ‘merely’ a normative idea. It requires that we give equal recognition not only to our fellow citizens, but also to people who do not share our nationality, language or history. Human beings – and not ethnic communities, nations or states – are the ultimate units of moral concern. Institutional cosmopolitanism, by contrast, is concerned with institutions and “holds that the world’s political units are brought under the authority of supranational agencies of some kind...." *yawn*

*stares off into the middle distance, vaugely annnoyed, not at Hans's reading, but at memories of law school*

Shhhhh, okay, enough, this isn't working.

*looks back at him* Do you know how my mother use to get to me to sleep when I was younger? Well, of course not; I haven't told you. But she would rub behind my ear. *reaches back* Here, lend me your hand for a bit.

Thank goodness.

*sets the book aside and offers his hand over, into Gabriel's*

You have a magic sleep spot behind your ear? I am intrigued.

You should be. I have all manner of unusual anatomy. But this is all that is proper to share.

*guides Hans's hand up and behind his ear*

There. I'm like a dog, really. Pet me.