Kleinzeit Read Online Free PDF

had nothing in it but a light-bulb hanging from the ceiling and a sink against the wall.
    From his bedroll and carrier-bags Redbeard took an electric kettle, a china cup and saucer, a spoon, a knife, a packet of tea, a packet of sugar, a pint of milk, a half pound of butter, a jar of strawberry jam, and four fruity buns. He plugged in the kettle, made tea, ate fruity buns with butter and strawberry jam.
    Sticky is good, said the yellow paper.
    Remember that, said Redbeard.
    It’s part of me now, said the yellow paper.
    The room shook to the sound of the trains, shrank with the chill from the black tunnels of the Underground.
    Redbeard spread newspapers on the floor, spread his bedroll on the newspapers. Kip time, he said.
    In the afternoon, said the yellow paper. Feel guilty.
    I do, said Redbeard. But I’ m sleepy. I’m tired. It’s hard for me to stay awake in the afternoon.
    Borrow fool’s pox, said the yellow paper.
    Give over, said Redbeard. I can’t keep my eyes open.
    He that had the key to this room last, said the yellow paper.
    What about him? said Redbeard. Never mind, said the yellow paper. What about him? said Redbeard again. Never mind, said the yellow paper. Ha ha. Borrow fool’s pox?
    Redbeard wrote the words on the yellow paper.
    It’s hard graft with you, said the yellow paper. You’re not up to much. One line a day is very slow action.
    Redbeard lay down, closed his eyes, fell asleep.
    Underground from its black chill spoke. Is he Orpheus?
    No, said the unsleeping yellow paper. He’s not.
    While Redbeard was sleeping Sister in the tightness and roundness of her tight trouser-suit came into the Underground. This is the place, she thought. This is the place my mind showed me the other day, and there was music. She paced up and down the corridor, trying to call back the music she had heard in her mind.
    Redbeard, waking, packed up his bedroll and carrier-bags. Blinking and heavy he came out among the footsteps and faces, the posters and the writing on the walls. He walked until he came to the place where his music was, in front of a film poster, BETWEEN, said the poster, NOW AT LAST, THE SEARING STROY OF THE LEGG SISTER.
‘Nothing can part us,’ they said, little knowing what was to come!
ALSO SHOWING, THE TURNOVER.
‘I’m sick and tired of looking at the ceiling!’ she said.
Low salaries impair thepotency of the working class, said handwriting on the poster. Not in Streatham, said other writing. Handel’s organ is always upright, said other writing.
    Redbeard took his cap out of the carrier-bag, flung it on the ground. He played
Yellow Dog Blues
on his mouth organ. Footsteps and faces went past. Nothing but copper in the cap.
    Sister went past. Redbeard took his mouth off the mouth organ, said ‘Yum yum.’
    Sister did not respond. Her Sister shoes took her past, turned her round, brought her back again, pacing thoughtfully.
    ‘Lost something, Yum Yum?’ said Redbeard.
    Sister shook her head, turned and walked the other way. There was music, she thought. But not this music. Other music. Her mind went to Kleinzeit. Why Kleinzeit? I‘ll think about that when the time comes, she thought.
    ‘That’s at least iops’ worth of listening you’ve done already,’ said Redbeard. ‘All authentic ethnic material, too.’
    Sister dropped 5p in the cap. ‘I was only listening with half an ear,’ she said. Hospital, please, she said to her shoes. They took her there.

So Glad
    After the lights were turned off in the ward Kleinzeit took his glockenspiel to the bathroom, closed the door. There was a wheelchair parked there with a hole in its seat for going to the toilet. Kleinzeit sat in the wheelchair with the glockenspiel resting partly on his knees and partly on the rim of the bathtub. He took the lid off the case. There were two beaters, but he thought it best to start with one. From a pocket of his robe he took a piece of folded notebook paper and a Japanese pen.
    Right, said Kleinzeit to the