The bonnet of the man on the chair in front of the white wall. The smell of beer on the table. The laughter of the toddler standing up on the synthetic leather stool. The girl crawling across the lino covered floor. The musician’s smile behind his accordion. The dog lifting its leg next to the photographer. The careful retraction of the camera eye and the sucking noise of the lens tunnel. The lustful hostess on the other side of the room. The smoking excavator driver outside in the dugout. The walk of the village beauty on the street. So many abandoned compact cars. A coil of coins in the hand of Timothy the cash transport driver. The scent of diesel and sweat all the way to the house of worship. The priest behind the church door with the tight dirty collar. The widow Flannagan kneeling on the stone-cold tiles below the image of the Lord. The open fly of the sacristan dozing in the pews. The organ sounds quietly dripping down from the gallery.
© 2011 Marcus Speh. All rights reserved.