Berlin Spleen

by Çağla Arıbal

Winter

Berlin mocks those attempting to shape it, submerged in knee-deep crime and thriving on cheap mixed cocaine, crystal, or whatever keeps you active and exuberant.

Junkies are spread around like rusty nails, multiplying as counted. The more you grip onto them, the more you fail. If you take a closer look at their swollen, veiny, blood-filled legs, you’ll see the true map of the city. The more you try to grip onto Berlin with your hand, the more quickly it will slip out.

We look at our reflections in the bathroom mirrors; our eyes are dilated, exuding opulence, while the sound of the toilet flushing gradually fades. Our urine, filled with contaminants, pollutes the sewage system and the local lakes. This pollution then circulates back to the seas, particularly around the less privileged areas. The fish, intoxicated by the drugs that once coursed through Berliners’ veins, eventually end up back inside our stomachs.

So is the Berliner eternal return.

Spring In the evenings, the wooden boards in the rooms creak in the darkness. Doors, and even the beautiful furniture made of solid walnut, join in. Sometimes, this sound takes on a short burst resembling the sound of a gun. It wakes people up from their sleep, thinking something has broken. However, the only audible noises are the creaks rising in the night. During this period, a stubborn longing for life emerges within the old wooden boards. Long ago, they radiated a childlike feeling, brought by warmth and strength. Buds sprouted from the branches in those times. Later, the trees were cut down. Each spring, a faint tremor of life still stirs in those fragments of the tree. Once they had leaves and flowers, but now they only hold a vague memory that can be described as “creak.” Then, everything remains silent until the next year.

Çağla Arıbal is a Berlin-based Turkish writer with a BA and MA in English & Comparative Literature. She teaches creative writing to displaced writers in Europe. Her works have been featured in many international publications, and recently she won a short fiction competition with her story ‘04:17 a.m., February 6,’ which is also a chapter in her debut novel.