I didn’t see it coming.

It was a cold night, without clouds — one of those nights I like best, when the air feels like crystal and my thoughts are hard and sharp. I was floating; not because I was happy, I think, but because there’s nothing in the world to keep me afloat but myself. My heart is frail, but buoyant.

The night was clear, and the ocean was calm, unusually still even, you can check the weather reports. The wind was moderate, as were the currents. It was freezing, yes. A cold front that passed through from the…


Nach Monaten kam es ihr so vor, als würde sie von der Kante der Erde fallen, sobald sie ihre Haustür öffnen würde. Am Anfang hatte sie sie manchmal noch aufgestoßen, den Kopf in den Flur gehalten, das fremde Treppenhaus, den Fuß über dem Abhang, nur ein Schritt vom Nichts entfernt — und mit rasendem Puls die Tür hinter sich zugeschlagen. Sie immer innen, andere außen vor.

Das Badezimmer eine schwimmende Insel, der Begriff kam ihr immer lächerlich vor — wie sollte eine Insel auch untergehen, ohne ihren ontologischen Inselstatus zu verlieren, ausgenommen Atlantis vielleicht, ein gewöhnliches Nichtschwimmer-Schicksal? Ob das Badezimmer…


Around the year 2145, place unknown.

Most of all, they were afraid of the emptiness. But while it may be significantly lower than the atmospheric pressure, there is still pressure in a vacuum.

On the surface, it appeared that the virus attacked all of their modern washed out buildings: capitalism, neoliberalism, imperialism, globalization, even democracy. But the virus didn’t survive on smooth surfaces, they just wiped it away; transmitted by droplets, it needed a living host to reproduce. Since the inns in Vienna and the world had closed, forbidding them to go out, they had all become hosts. And unsuspectingly…


Aerial view of Antarctica.

I am a very judgmental person in character, but there’s few things I loathe more than vapid quotes on Social Media. Ranking in the vertiginous heights of a hateful and bilious list: “The world is a book and those who do not travel only read one page.” …


It was well after midnight when I realized.

We are like Earth before the Copernican Revolution: Thinking that everything revolves around us, but slowly, painfully, and because finally someone did the math, we’ve come to understand that it is, in fact, us that are constantly changing position.

It was after midnight because it was before sunrise — our little lives nothing but trapped between the before and after — , but in my room the silence felt timeless. I had only moved in a few weeks earlier, filling my home with books instead of people because at least they couldn’t…


Wind: a directed air movement in the atmosphere.

Does wind have only a direction or also a destination?

Main causes: Differences in air pressure between hot and cold air masses. Air particles from an area with higher air pressure flow into an area with lower air pressure until the pressure is balanced.

Is wind a symptom of imbalance?

Air pressure depends on the density of the air, or how close together molecules are. The closer together molecules move, the denser the air becomes — and the higher the pressure.

What’s wrong with us?

When you sit in a car or…


The theory of cultural evolution proposes that while it may not be identical to genetic evolution, social change does work in eerily similar ways to the evolutionary mechanisms of adaption, variation and selection as first defined by Charles Darwin in 1859. By imposing a socio-anthropological process on a biological one, and thus opposing ‘nature’ with ‘culture’, the project of cultural evolution though, many thinkers have come to point out, built their program on shaky ground — because the very concept of ‘nature’ is one that has been abolished by Darwin himself.

Not only did it replace the fixated typological thinking…


No matter where I am, I just have to close my eyes and instantly everything is present, like the relief on a map:

I see a street in the shadows, heavy with houses, and a little shop selling postcards at the far back where one road is meeting the next and turning bright and loud. The soil is smelling warm of waste, mixing with the odor of fish from the market a few steps further, and I’m holding my breath.

I see a small park, more a large quadrangle really, with trees and benches in the shade. I see men…


The problem with evil is that most of it doesn’t show symptoms until it’s too late — every body is but a ticking time bomb.

I imagine that the man coming towards me on the platform is carrying an ulcer on his liver. Hidden under his clothes and his body which holds so many secrets from him and yet, unmistakably, it’s there; his doctor will tell him in two and a half weeks.

But right now the man is clueless and on his way to work, with his briefcase and the ulcer, or coming back from that place he tells…


Rodin saw the body like a cathedral.

Barcelona, July 2018

Today is like any other hour: A random day in a lazy city. Decay is wafting through the streets, it hasn’t rained in months. There is a morgue-like stench in every corner, garbage bags lying on the streets like wounded animals. But you do not have to look, just like he doesn’t look; he hurries.

Like an urgent need it pulled him out of bed this morning, the sheets still damp from the lonely body in it, every night he lies there and sweats, like an embryo in amniotic fluid…

Iseult Grandjean

writer, journalist, absurdist.

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