Berlin
Writing

Everyone wears black so hard you don't notice after a while that there are differing shades.

Night city · Unfinished history · The weight of concrete

Berlin is a city that makes you conscious of the ground beneath your feet. Not metaphorically — literally. The cobblestones remember things. The Stolpersteine are everywhere, small brass plaques set flush into the pavement outside houses where people were taken. You step over them constantly without noticing, which is somehow the point. Berlin is the city most aware of what cities can become when they stop paying attention.

"I wait for a train that circles the city like bats. At night in Berlin you can imagine anything you want. The carriages are full of inviting people I never talk to. Everyone wears black so hard you don't notice after a while that there are differing shades."

Tumbleweed Words — ‘train in vain’ — Berlin, winter

The Berlin writing in Tumbleweed Words started on U-Bahn trains at night — the specific quality of Berlin underground transport, which feels theatrical, chosen, self-conscious in a way that London or Paris underground does not. The passengers in a Berlin carriage after midnight are performing something. What they are performing is harder to name.

David — Tumbleweed Words Flash fiction and poetry written on trains, in hostels, and in city streets. Published in Litro, Adelaide Magazine, Cleaver Magazine, and The Dundee Anthology. Pushcart-nominated. Five years on Substack.