Searching for Valdemar

The youths ravaged the city. Windows were broken, doors were breached, people were beaten down.

They had found out about death.

No one had told them about it before.

They wondered in anger. So after all, there is death, they thought. After being beat up as children, after being forced to do things they didn’t feel like doing, after neglecting fun over chores, after sex, marriage, children, work, grandchildren… there was death.

And after death was nothing.


Fucking bastards, they thought. They never said it before, now they come out and tell us that, just like that, like it’s ok.

After the riots, they stayed quiet and low for a while, like nothing had happened. Research was being made, people were being contacted.

They found the clinical history of a man named Valdemar. The people who worked at the hospital said he was still ‘there’.

So they went to find him.


D.