(IN 22 YEARS, THE FIRST SHOT WILL BE FIRED. NOT A SHOT FROM A GUN -- AN ATOMIC DEVICE THAT WILL LEVEL ALL OF ME. ALL OF ME.)
Their little corner of Sur-la-Clef has everything a couple of confirmed bachelors in their mid-sixties could ask for: a little park with boules and chessboard tables, a pharmacy, a nice boulangerie, a racing track whose presence had been Kim’s only request when, three years ago, a dead-eyed Harry had urged them to pack up and move out, anywhere, NOW. And so they go through the motions, in this place that could be anywhere, because no city in Elysium will ever have Revachol’s soul again, so anywhere goes when it comes to exile, really. They can only carry it within themselves, that burning, melancholic ideal of history’s defeat, and when the evenings are cool and cloudless and they look to the south-east, toward Mundi’s porch collapse now vivid on the horizon, to the swelling numbness of the pale and to the dissolving concept of Insulinde’s atomic wasteland far beyond it, Harry is still shaken by a shiver, as alive as he’s ever been.
Disco Elysium, Harry/Kim
Their little corner of Sur-la-Clef has everything a couple of confirmed bachelors in their mid-sixties could ask for: a little park with boules and chessboard tables, a pharmacy, a nice boulangerie, a racing track whose presence had been Kim’s only request when, three years ago, a dead-eyed Harry had urged them to pack up and move out, anywhere, NOW.
And so they go through the motions, in this place that could be anywhere, because no city in Elysium will ever have Revachol’s soul again, so anywhere goes when it comes to exile, really. They can only carry it within themselves, that burning, melancholic ideal of history’s defeat, and when the evenings are cool and cloudless and they look to the south-east, toward Mundi’s porch collapse now vivid on the horizon, to the swelling numbness of the pale and to the dissolving concept of Insulinde’s atomic wasteland far beyond it, Harry is still shaken by a shiver, as alive as he’s ever been.