Concrete and Clay

Werner awoke, scratched his balls and pulled the covers back over his face. It was January 30th. The frost on the windows was now on the inside of his room. He knew that he would have to get up soon, but resisted for as long as he could until he could take the pain of his overfull bladder no more. His sloping shoulders barely holding up his head, he traipsed slowly across the room, narrowly avoiding the cat that had crept in and curled up at the edge of the bed.

On his return, feeling marginally better, Werner slowly dressed and made his way to the kitchen to grab a coffee before heading out. The streets were still quiet this morning and this pleased Werner, the last thing he wanted was the bustle of the early commuters heading into Hamburg hassling him, turning their noses up at him. He also knew that he had to complete his task as surreptitiously as possible.

Armed with a small brush and a pot of black paint, Werner quickly set to his work. He wrote "leg dein ohr auf die schiene der geschichte" - put your ear on the rail of history. But it was too late. History was already in the making. January 30 1933.

For all you disco queens out there: http://www.myspace.com/aerobique.

Beneath the hyperbole this might actually be something serious.