Station VII

8°12'S · 110°31'E

—

Dry season only

TWO

chairs

The station receives two visitors each dry season. Not a cohort. Not a retreat. Two chairs on the porch, facing the gravel. The canopy is behind you. That is the orientation.

Two empty wooden chairs on a porch facing a gravel plain at dusk.
00

RULE

If this reads like a wellness programme, you have the wrong station.

01

WALK

You walk the gravel until the stones look back. Miss them twenty times. The twenty-first was always there.

02

lift

You lift the leaf litter. You do not wash your hands. Contamination is the method, not an accident.

03

CORE

You cut one core. You read it as a sentence. You do not take it home. The iron band stays in the cabinet.

04

leave

You publish only what can fruit again. One sentence is enough. Three words, then silence.

Harsh dry-season gravel yard, two chairs stacked in the porch shade.
01

DRY

The chairs are out from May. They come in when the fourth rain argues. Green months are for the floor, not for guests.

JanFebMarApr MayJunJulAug SepOctNovDec

You bring one notebook, one sentence you cannot paraphrase, shoes that accept dust. No kit list. No promised wifi. The clock on the mast is the only schedule.

You leave the sentence on the table, or you don’t. The station does not certificate. The bulletin may quote you without naming you. That is a kindness.

ask

Seats
Two. Not four. Not a waiting list that pretends.
Length
Nine days. The tenth is for the road.
Answer
After rain. If it does not rain, after we remember.