Business trip

The hotel had guns up front, turrets, sandbags. But inside the breakfast was a buffet and the lady asked my room number. And then I got coffee and a nice fat jug of milk.

The car that took me to my meetings was armored. The building where we did business was a real fortress, and the guards were the most loyal among the brown people. They were paid well and well fed. In the meeting rooms we exchanged fat sums.

On my way to the airport I heard machine gun fire and the driver told me not to worry, it was nothing. I took off leaving the country below. With other business people, and tourists and musicians with me. It’s so punk of me to rebel.

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk