They are standing on a bridge. Underneath them burning gases, multi-lane railroads, overgrown goods-wagons and a grate of cargo-containers, sprawling grasses and rust red metal. Tumbling they walk backwards, leaving the vastness of the bridge and the surrounding noises behind them. They leave the city. The horizon, the border of their visual perception slowly disappears and is henceforth replaced with a constant of two-dimensional pictures. Could the shortage of dimension be another dimension in itself? A moment later they find themselves back on the bridge. The loop starts over and they loose and forget everything, they had just seen, caught and learned.
Tumbling they walk backwards again, leaving the vastness of the bridge and the surrounding noises of the city behind them. They leave the city. They get into the truck, which was standing on the brink and are now driving on the gritty streets, at times sandy vastness, at times rocks. Here in the anywhere, city and horizon behind them, simulated realities form. Exaggerated landscapes pass by. Landscape format. The organic woods, through which they pass, change constantly and evolve into thin strokes and blotches, a filtered negative of themselves. The woods grow thicker, blend into a unity of color.
They drift right into it, into the drift sand, where, surrounded by monstrous and frightening constructions, the muffled bang of the machines and dark corridors, which point in direction unknown. Straight forward, faster, running through the nervous system, a solid platform unfolds underneath them, on which they can now circulate upwards through a small shaft, uninterrupted, accompanied by an octave. Driven in the midst of the circular loop, tattered sounds dissolve the reflection, until the glass shards, which surrounded them, fall to the ground. The trucks side mirror is broken. The rough sound of the trucks motor accompanies R. on his way home into the city. He is alone, for he has shattered his mirror image.
The loop starts over. R. is on a bridge, underneath him burning gases, the multi-lane railroads, the goods-wagons and the grate of cargo-containers, have since been overgrown by meters high, sprawling grasses and palms and the rust red metal is decayed. Tumbling he now dares to walk forward. With each step on the bridge a new bridge is constructed. He has left the reflection behind him. What is left, is the existence. An unknown city rises in front of him. Many high-rise buildings in this unknown city, but, yes, high-risers, a lot. High above, in the sky, high-risers have perks, the open view, only the windows R. can not open, wherefore glass-shards fall to the ground.
They, that is Robert and his mirror image. His mirror image is shattered. In place of reflection remains existence. Robert, just Robert.