"The tears of the world are a constant quantity.

The man came towards me. His eyes were fixed on me. His constant movements left no doubt. He riveted on me, slim and short as he was. Even when coming closer he seemed to be small. That's how I remember him - illusory. He is probably taller than me. Being 1,60 m almost everyone is taller than me.

Everyone but Zineta. Zineta measures 1,53 m. She was right behind me, next to Al Khaled, Mawlud, Serdar, and Dachil. The barrack's hallway in an emergency exit's supported width. Everywhere on the compound at Schmidt-Knobelsdorf-Strasse hundreds of people stay in emergency shelters, in rooms and tents.

Two days ago, Zineta had been watching out for me at a strategically favorable spot within HEIM: The traffic bottleneck between security, the staircase to second and third floor, and the few steps leading to the basement or the common room. Any evasive maneuver impossible.

She had asked for 5 minutes of my time. The hardship of those arriving every day, the sheer impossibility to house them and supply them with the necessary seemed to whitewash all deficiencies of her and Melisa's lodging, the way it has been for two years now between a bed, a chair, a closet, and a bin at daHEIM.

Zineta wanted to help and divide the little she had with those who had nothing. Two days later, six of us would drive to that scene of distress. We would pause between people's hustle and antsiness, looking for the distribution of used clothing, standing in line for food. Pick-up trucks delivered donations.

Hundreds of people sleep in white tents. Al Khaled's brother is one of them. Rooms inside the barracks are reserved for families in the first place. The tents would not withstand the rain.

There where shoes airing out on a window sill.

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Vladimir: What are you doing?

Estragon: Pale for weariness.

Vladimir: Eh?

Estragon: Of climbing heaven and gazing of the likes of us.

Vladimir: Your boots. What are you doing with your boots?

Estragon: I'm leaving them here. […]

Another will come. Just as ... as ... as me, but with smaller feet, and they'll make him happy.

Vladimir: But you can't go barefoot.₂

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The man in the hallway was close to me now. He was very close. His complexion was lutescent but maybe that was just a reflection of the walls.

With one last step he would overcome those centimeters between us. We were very close to each other now: breath to breath.

Man: HOW LONG DO I HAVE TO STAY HERE?

I kept silent. "Why are you asking me", I wanted to say. "Why me?" I did not answer.

We stood motionless. The ground would give in due to falling seconds.

Me: I DON'T KNOW

Pause

Man: WHY?

_______________________________________________________________________________

Vladimir: Say something

Estragon: I'm trying

Vladimir: Say anything at all

Estragon: What do we do now

Vladimir: Wait for Godot.

Estragon: Ah!₃

_{Quotations: Samuel Beckett, Warten auf Godot, Suhrkamp Taschenbuch 1, 1971 | p 86 | p135 | p156}

Child of Lamedusa