Läuten der Seele - Unterhaltungen mit Larven und Überresten

Some time ago, a few steps down from the place where I lived back then, there was this unkempt garden belonging to a smallish, rather bland-looking 1920s-era mansion. The garden was surrounded by a stone wall and one side of that wall had a huge crack running right through it. I've passed that spot every day on my way to work. The crack itself was shaped like a lightning striking through the stone or resembled something that would imply seismic activity even if no such thing is known to occur in these part. But its energetic radiance was undeniable to me. Often when I passed it, a rush of electricity flooded my thoughts and I would wonder – what microcosm, what kind of infinitesimal life, would rest inside there? It felt as if that crack could contain a whole reality of its own, different from mine, highly sensitive and yet perfectly encapsulated by the stupor of our mundane wanderings.