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  • I live in two worlds, each defined by my ability to understand the words, language either comforting or energising me by my lack of familiarity. This week the two worlds started to bleed together.

    I first noticed this on one of my morning walks. An electrical fence strung across the mist laced field signed in English, a second yellow plastic warning 'Shon Wieder Ein Zaun'. I put it down to expedience. Two markets, one fence.

    Then Saturday happened. Sitting at the breakfast table, post 6am drinking, outside of too many whiskey sours I saw it nestled in among the other fruit juices. Out of place. Orangensaft. A vibrant orange, acidic artefact from my other world. The world where trains are cheap and I understand every third word.

    The next drift through the membrane was in the car on the way home. A coach went past, half the name in English, the other Reisen.

    The seeping between the worlds continues.

    Everything is running into each other, mixing, coalescing, einflößen, tangling, Unzusammengehöriges, merging, werden, sättigen.
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