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After midnight

Kristiane Nerdrum Bøgwald / 20 min.


Inside a run-down playground.

An almost forgotten place in the heart of the city. It could have been a nice garden where children are playing. Maybe it was at a certain time. But nowadays only people with dogs are passing by, and now and then; some few unlucky souls.

I stand in a corner among wild grass, garbage and dog shits. In my hands it’s a cake decorated with roses. I am wearing an orange dress. My mouth is singing:
Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight...

During the song my voice is changing and a howl finds its way out of my throat.

I spit over my right shoulder. I start walking; a group of people are walking behind me.

I walk my route: I climb up the slide; I slide down the slide, always with the cake in my hands. When I gently put it down in the sand it is still the same. An Abba song is on my brain.

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away?

Someone lit a candle. I demanded him to do so. I read something from a book, partly barking, partly chanting. At one moment I pour soil over the cake. Another moment I am washing myself with the cake. Everything blends together with catholic rhythm, gibblish phrases and suddenly the dog appears!

Wow! Wow!

I am eating the cake and running around like a dog.



Something drags me down at the end.

I allow myself to fall... almost ... all the way. At first with great residence – the dog growls... and then: I let go.