Preparing to replace pink sausages during the twilight hour.
An Evening in Prenzlauer Berg: A Glimpse into the Post-Wall Literary Scene
On a crisp autumn evening in early August, the author found himself immersed in the vibrant atmosphere of Prenzlauer Berg, a neighborhood that had become synonymous with alternative culture and creativity in post-Wall Berlin. The setting was a swanky bar, where a birthday event was taking place.
As the author made his way through the bustling streets, he paused to pet a small, scruffy dog on his way to the bar. The street, Kottbusser Damm, was lined with kebab shops, a testament to the area's multicultural flavour.
Upon entering the bar, the author was greeted by H., the birthday child, who was expressing emphasis in his silent shouting against the city noise. H., in his enthusiasm, offered the author free drinks with a unicorn, accompanied by a rhinoceros drawn on the author's hand with a marker.
The seating arrangement was strangely dysfunctional, making it difficult for guests to talk to anyone but their direct neighbors. The author found himself seated on the wet pig bellies of Prenzlauer Allee, alongside a circle of chairs. Despite the arrangement, the author knew fewer people than expected at the event.
As the night progressed, the author found himself in conversations with familiar faces. He had a heartfelt reunion with B., whom he hadn't seen in a long time. The music playing in the car, Alepher's, filled the air, adding to the lively ambiance.
In the midst of the festivities, the author's memory took an unusual form. He imagined his memory as an event hall where people he's met or read about were seated in a circle of chairs. Each new person in his memory displaced someone else, creating a dynamic and ever-changing landscape.
The author was surprised when he recognized C., who had been speaking at a university colloquium earlier in the day. Upon recognizing C., the city came back to life with deafening traffic noise. The birthday child, H., was giving a speech, but no one could understand him due to the city noise.
The author handed H. Erich Hamann's elegant records and a pink fabric sausage by the artist Nolundi Tschudi as a birthday gift. As the night drew to a close, the author exchanged goodbyes with H. and the other guests.
The woman waving at the author from outside was unknown to him, but he liked her. As he left the bar, he brushed an ant off a stranger's shoulder that had been bothering him all evening. The night in Prenzlauer Berg was filled with unexpected encounters, heartfelt conversations, and a glimpse into the post-Wall literary scene that had thrived in the neighborhood.
During the lively event, the author engaged in riveting conversations about social-media trends with a friend, providing a brief distraction from the city noise. In a continued exploration of entertainment, the author and his acquaintances discussed their favorite movies-and-tv shows, sharing laughs and memories amidst the festivities.
