A comet is heading towards the Earth. I lie me down. On the earth. On the stomach. One ear. My ear. Pressed against the earth. I listen. Listen for life. Scratch myself between the shoulder blades. Cartilage connects the body with the body. The spine connects me with an animal with a brain. I am a primitive vertebrate that has developed two pair of limbs and a brain box. My hand grasps the grass. A large amount of the land surface of the world is covered with grass. One fourth. When it is dry season dust is whirled up. The roots of the grass are whirled along. Up. Man emerged from the dust of the Earth. In my pocket lies a stone. The cold lifts stones out of the ground. On earth. In northern Denmark a stone appears. It is rich in iron. The surface is bumpy. It came from outer space. A meteor. Now it comes out of the ground. A meteorite. I get up. Cover the comet with a hand. For a moment it is. Gone.
BLACK FAT SOIL/SVART FET JORD
Prose and image: THE EARTH AND THE COMET
An anthology by Ulrika Gomm, Imri Sandström and Linda Spjut
IASPIS – The Swedish Arts Grants Committee’s International Programme for Visual Artists, Stockholm 2011