Better to run away while sitting

Gerda and Karl are waiting for their daily delivery from “meals on wheels”. They talk while waiting: They are on a deeply labyrinthine quest for memories where the trite collides with the essential, sometimes leading all the way to the grotesque. These conversations shape their everyday life, which has become more and more limited by age. While in the past the conversation may have revolved around shells from Cattolica and puffer fish from Antares, the present is all about “spinach, mashed potatoes, eggs over easy and salad”, about medications that determine the course of the day and unsuccessful shopping trips because everything is getting blurred. Thinking becomes more unfocused. Karl becomes ever more quiet, until he stops speaking altogether. Gerda moves into a home. Now everybody is talking around Gerda: about possibly lost dentures, about forgotten errands, “Chemo Island”, or supremely ritualized trips to the café. As her reality is shrinking, each detail gains meaning and this creates a reality that is as idiosyncratic as it is deeply astonishing.