Karo De Nijs, Foul Fools
The arm of the old man moves from his mouth, parallel with the earth, to an outstretched position, pointing to his opposition.
Can you hear that?
The arm swiftly moves upwards, aligning itself perpendicular opposite the ground.
The arm is stuck in another space. His body rapidly follows.
That is the sound of a wave, a chirp. It fell upon my finger and moved through my arm, searching for the ground.
The old man made a theatrical long pauze before he continued.