while showering in a room with the old ladies (oh, delicate youth!) after a morning swim i overhear a conversation between a couple of this species, one incoming and one heading towards the crowded pool. they do meet here, these ones, in herds, one might suppose, as steady as the rock of gibraltar (that’s intertextuality) among all the kids and teenagers, fleeing their empty homes stuffed with the memories of former days, warfrüherallesbesser?, holidays on the coast and family portraits. i just suppose that it must look like that over there. in any case the one heading to the water addresses the other one before walking out of the damp room: “see you around afterwards”. this one nods, and thoughtfully the first one adds: “if nothing happens in between”. and i stand stumbled under the pouring water – too much vanitas before nine o’clock for my taste, even more than the skull on your shoulder, dear; or the slowly rotting flower of last year’s visitors or even the mashed christmas sweet i find scrolling through a magazine, silent night having passed a long time ago. she totters towards the pool, this one, and, well, i really hope she’s a fast swimmer.