Читать книгу The Ball - Erik Pethersen - Страница 18

I lower down the windows of my car a bit. The cool air lashes my face, while I set the volume on 24; this morning I played the Solstafir album, it is not that bad.

I glance at the display, looking for the title of the track now playing, and I identify it as Sjúki skugginn1. As I have already done now more than twelve hours ago, I think that each track should have a meaning, no matter how difficult the language is. I am going to read the lyrics again, or at least to give the titles some sort of meaning.

Bass guitars play really low: let’s higher up to 32.

I overcome the humps and I swirl to the left, I cut through the roundabout, keeping an eye on the central kerb, I merge onto the avenue that leads to the university. The lanes are all free from traffic.

I get it into second gear, driving along the wide roundabout of the emergency room and I press my foot on the accelerator. In about three hundred metres, as soon as I get to the roundabout of the baseball field, I have to drive along it and take the third exit, towards the avenue leading to my house.

When the engine is around 4.700 revolutions, I take a wide turn on the right and I see an electric blue car coming in front of me, in the opposite direction. It seems quite slow and quite far away: it will get to the roundabout after me.

I press my break and I put my car into second gear to prepare for the narrow roundabout, while I am looking at the porphyry stripe that borders the central island, where I want to drive over with my two inner tires. I steer to the left, while I just feel a sudden tingling in my nose: I sneeze. The air that comes out so suddenly from my lungs makes me jump. My left hand swerves the steering wheel and brings it back to the standard position.

Bloody hell, I lost control, I ended up in the camellias. The car jolts a little. I go straight and I slow down. I stop by the roadside, and I put the hazard lights on.

The electric blue car drives past me and goes on.

I get out of the car and I head to the porphyry stripe which runs around the camellias. I made such a mess. I have driven over the three plants on the outer side.

I squat down and I reach out to the plants: they snapped, crushed into the soil, broken up. Poor them.

I get back to my car, feeling sad.

The electric blue car too has stopped with the hazard lights on beyond the roundabout. I look at it for a few seconds: the LED light bulbs off the lamppost light it up from up above, making it a more sparkling blue.

I make a U-turn and I take the road leading to the university. I drive to the very end, I turn left and drive into my driveway.

1 Sólstafir (artist), Svartir sandar (album title), Sjúki skuggin (track title), 2011 (year)