Little Grapefruit feels self-conscious as she looks into the water. She worries that people will try to rescue her, not realising that she is an experienced swimmer with a clear travel plan. Instead, she takes the bus from Bratislava to Hrad Devin. She rolls past thistles that make her feel homesick, into the ruined castle. From the crenellations on the battlements she looks out over the setting sun, throwing a grapefruit pink over the still water of the river bend and the plains of Burgenland. She hums the words “The Danube is pink, it’s pink, it’s pink” to that old tune by Johann Strauss II.
Little Grapefruit recalls visiting the other side of the Danube when she was a very little girl, looking up at the cliffs and this castle, past barbed wire fences and watchtowers. She has had a number of regenerations since then. The world has changed beyond recognition since the 1970s. Little Grapefruit thinks that we take a lot for granted nowadays. She is relieved that grapefruit can now travel freely across Europe.
LG rolls down from the castle into the Danube, dodging the pleasure cruisers. She swims upstream for hours, never flagging, her mind freed up now that she can forget the acronym that has guided her this far. Along the way she communes with a small school of friendly common nase (Chondrostoma nasus) that are hiding on a gravel bed at a large bend in the river. They readily share their meal of algae, and swap contact details. LG heeds their warning about the giant fish called huchen (or Hucho hucho to give them their scientific name) that would eat even a large grapefruit in a single gulp.
Little Grapefruit feels conspicuous for long stretches of the river, as the only pink object in evidence, catching the light of the full moon. The stars are bright on this clear night, away from the glow of the city. But little by little they fade, partially obscured by the dull red dome above Vienna, and Little Grapefruit starts to recognise familiar landmarks. She turns off at Donaukanal and surfaces at Schottenring because it has a friendly ring to it, and it’s a good starting point for the day ahead. It’s exactly 03:00. She sleeps in a bush at Votivkirche. She feels relaxed. This is the city where she grew up, in a Julius Meinl supermarket on Krottenbachstraße.
LITTLE GRAPEFRUIT – SENT BY POSTKARD SELEKTED FROM A TABAK ON THE GRABEN
27 November 2023
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