How long has it been that we could no longer set one foot silently in front of the other? Each one of our strides resounds and echoes. Our approach is noisy, and our going away is a clatter. We are forever surrounded by din. The crutch punches holes in our thoughts. People on two legs overtake us.
The two-legged are our enemies. The gentleman on the platform with the squishy nose has two legs. The rowdy conductor has two legs. The disrespectful policeman has two legs. The police inspector with the pointy chin has two legs. Katharina has two legs. The apple-checked Death who called for Mooli has two legs. All the ‘heathens’ have two legs.
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