A film
It's called House 4
It's about my Granny
When she was very old
90+
every time
when I met her
I thought
it was
the last time
Once I secretly recorded her
because I thought again
it was the last time
and that time was indeed the last
Six months later she was gone
I wanted to seal time
She talked
It was a monologue for long stretches
A topology of memories
She no longer knew
how to navigate it
between
War
Father
Profession
Work
Moves
Cities
Daughters
Siblings
These knots of memory were
her company
in the hopeless loneliness
What was missing
was reinvented
A tired soul
that says goodbye
There are no souls
There is protein and suffering
There is rotting
There is forgetting and remembering
There is a coffin in the backyard of the morgue
next to the rubbish bins
There is 35 degrees in the morning
There is a space blanket
that shines golden in the sun
There is a pathologist
who smokes a cigarette next to the coffin
There is a road to the cemetery
covered with dry mud
There is mother
holding on to the air
There is a rubber mat
under the coffin in a GAZelle
which, despite the rubber mat
slips and almost falls over
I help the rubber mat
There is a hole in the clay floor
There is a building rubble container
filled with orthodox grave crosses
There is the word WASTE
in white writing
according to GOST
on the rubble container
There are bribes to gravediggers
so that they won't shit in the grave
There is a wake
which does good
The room
Is the last room
She remembered Nazis
She wanted to destroy them all
She remembered
how she was stealing potato peels
to make potato pancakes
She confused her daughters
She always closed the curtains
it was always dark in the room
She used to prepare herself
She always said
Retirement home?
No way!
Better straight to the cemetery!
And so it was
RIP