Say goodbye quietly, goodbye. The riddle writer is running out of material. She dreams – rest. And make a riddle that consists of nothing. Just rest. The rest is silence. Sometimes it’s just over and over. Once again. Over and over and over. Always over and over. Only cloudy sediment in the brain or elsewhere. The riddle writer could think about glasses. For example about this ominous half-full. As always, she tends to be pessimistic and mumbles: Half full is soon empty. Baldleer? Now I get in touch and fearfully call out: Pour again! I don’t want to step on the scene yet! I still want to work towards the final shrinkage with yours truly! You can’t do that – the riddle writer exclaims sullenly.
What are you already! Not even a decent ending! You are a not-yet-end, nothing else. And I only find something not yet bitter. – But there is still the cup of joy. The cup of life. The full battery. The perpetual motion machine … – be silent, stupid anti-creation! Shut up. Be quiet. Go there.
The riddle writer supports her head heavily and stares at the ominous glass. The rest of them flashes boldly towards her. – Should I mobilize the last reserve? Bend over, tilt my gaze, descend? Point your head down a little. Think about what I like to do! Or even reveal who I like! Who do I dislike? And illustrate everything with a verb that is then not the rest, not the end, but perhaps the beginning … No, not today, whispers from the half-empty glass. She takes it in both hands, stares at the puddle, drinks it up. Until here. It doesn’t go any further. The text went to me. The glass too. And patience. What am i?
Do you want to know? We solve at [email protected]
From now on I will always put a puzzle on my homepage on Monday, Wednesday and Friday www.elisabethkoeppe.de a. To find under Creativity “current riddle”.
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