Aytek Sever - Hiperbor - I

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OMEN
You are well-dressed. Decent and kind, you are walking
down the broad busy street. Careful though you are not to
stand out, for anyone to observe, you are not at all disguised.
Whatever is mismatching about you, just with a brief glance
one can get the hint that you are not from here: an immigrant
you are, here you don’t belong.
You do not stumble, never stagger, but you are salient.
Your shadowy mien and bleak conduct reveal that, despite
moving elsewhere, you never forgot about your origins and
your ambiguous past. You are inconcealably dull and barren.
You have a plan for the day, you have things to arrange,
you need to go ahead, and you have an address in your mind.
Just stay focused on the way and walk along – even though
you see a cloud of calamity fifty yards down the street:
whether a brawl, an ambush or a commotion, whatever that
gloom is, you don’t know how and why to avoid it, and have
to walk directly on in – the way you have always been
destined to make happen what will happen next.
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