RE A Call For Love copyright JAN OSCAR HANSEN
RE Fame copyright JAN OSCAR HANSEN
RE That Day Was Special copyright JAN OSCAR HANSEN

JAN OSCAR HANSEN

That Day Was Special

Carl, Eric and I sat on a storm fallen tree, on an elevation
overlooking our town's shunting yard. Mars and the sun was 
warming us, not just hanging about being pale and insipid.
Birds were busy picking tiny twigs ready to be a part of 
the endless cycle of reproduction.

While sitting there and feeling at ease with the world 
shunting a bottle of vodka between us, Carl got so 
overwhelmed that he began crying talking about his 
little boy his ex wife wouldn't let him see and
about Jesus. Eric and I ignored him and talked IF- 
politics, putting the world to right. 

When the bottle was empty and we had drunk the beer we had
in a bag, we tired and walked down to the yard, climbed into
a nearly empty goods wagon and went to sleep. Later a guard 
awoke us told us to get lost.

And we are in another nameless town. Walking around this
awful place we came across a corner shop that sold beer. 
The grocer wouldn't sell us any since it was after six 
o'clock, but we kept staring at him till he relented.

Followed a disused rail-track till we found a workman 
hut; broke open its lock and settled for the night. 

Awoke early Carl wasn't there but outside asleep with 
his head on a track waiting for a train that would never 
come. Eric and I cheered him, gave him the two last 
bottles of beer. Since it was morning and the same 
birds appeared to be picking the same tiny twigs we 
began walking home. Carl, having survived a suicide
attempt, was cheerful told us daring stories about 
himself, tales he had wanted to tell his little son.

We loved him that day.