Hundreds of lonely islands

Puffing on a joint

A steel giant is steadily making its way

Along the beaten path –

On a grey surface of Gulf of Finland.

The fog.

Drifting over the calm sea.

Facebook profiles are flashing,

Talks in the bar,

Sponge Bob cartoons,

The Chinese are buying up the duty free.

Three old men are staring at the screen.

Close up a wedding of poisonous toads in Paraguay.

The giant is tipping to the side,

It quakes, changing its heading.

During night, one of the old men gets off on an Aland Islands.

To have a look at the house,

Where he spent his childhood,

For the last time,

He says.

He hardly ever visits it.

But every time, more and more, he feels the presence of his cousin-sister.

Who died years ago.

The giant slowed down,

Clouds of laughter fade away,

The darkness is getting thick.

Facebook profiles are going to the cabins.

The children and the cognac bottles rest.

The old man is getting ready to come ashore.

Calm sea.

The fog.

And every second is the future.

And hundreds of lonely islands.

Outside and inside.

2010.