The exit of the shopping center is on a square. It is busy there. The ‘Braemblokken’ are around the corner. There was a holiday atmosphere, as if the beach were here on the corner. Ief spoke to people and showed them pictures of what we had done the last few days. He spoke with a group of girls and they wanted to help carry me into the shopping center. Not because of me, but because of the bag of sweets.
I know now that the girls are not cold and that it has something to do with the Mosque where we were yesterday. And the Mosque has something to do with the one who made everything: the flowers, the trees and the people. According to some, anyway. I was made by Ief and a number of prisoners. That is true for everyone. I will no longer make stupid remarks about scarves. It makes me a bit insecure how many other silly things I might say.
At one point there were enough people to carry me. Ief divided everyone across my full length. I always feel a great slowness in me. An urge to persist in my existing state of non-movement, to remain lying. A great force is needed to give me a different direction or speed.
Someone from the security stood at the entrance. The children would cause too much nuisance in the shopping center. I was a minor problem. Instead they carried me to the basketball court on the square. The porters laid me down. A number of them remained seated and watched the game. I was a kind of grandstand. The ball rolled over the ground and flew into the air. I was fascinated by how simple that was for the ball. I am good at lying down and very difficult to move. I am more complicated. A ball is round, you can’t make it any easier. I shut myself off from the world around me and dreamt that I was rolling over the ground and flying in the air. I am Ball. I am a ball.