Cry I

Cry I

Digital Art By Sabine Adameit

    Fotoprint on Alu Dibond. 40(h) x 50(w) cm.

    The watermark of the image will not appear on the final print.


    It's so boring after school. He takes his ball and bolts it against the wall on the garages of the skyscraper. The children here are all older. You don't want to play with him. The parents are still at work. Most of the neighbors are always upset when he plays here. Because of the noise, they say. There is no playground here. What else should he do? Maybe the only nice neighbor will come to me today. He has a moped and sometimes takes me with him. He listens to me and he likes me I think. My schoolmates are mostly too silly for me. I can talk to him quite well, just like I imagine a friend to be, although he is a lot older. He is almost as old as my parents. Anyway, there are nice adults too. “Hello Stefan, I want to do a little tour again. Do you want to come? " I greeted him happily. "Hello Mark, yes of course, please" It was a bright, warm autumn day. He gave me a helmet and off we went. We drove out of the gray city. It's a great feeling to drive so fast on the country road. The trees raced past me. They smelled so nice, very different from that stink in the city. I felt very grown up. I'm not sure my parents would have allowed me to. But you don't have to know everything. In the neighboring village he bought me an ice cream. Vanilla with chocolate sauce. I didn't want to go home anymore, but Mark said we should go back now. The return trip made me a little sad. I'm alone at home again. It's boring there. "Do you want to come to me or do you have to go home?" "I still have time, my parents won't be home for two hours," I said. "Well then we can still hear some music with me," said Mark. “Take off your jacket, boy. Make yourself comfortable ”. There was no living room in his small apartment. He offered me a place on his bed. He had a huge record collection. He told me a story about every record. I was excited. He sat close to me and put his arm around me. "What is with you? You are so still today You don't eat at all. Don't you like it? ”My mother asked worriedly when we were having dinner. I silently shook my head and fought back tears. "What have you been up to today?" "Nothing," I replied briefly and went into my room. I would love to die of pain and shame.

    Copyrights Sabine Adameit


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