002 Urlaub auf der Kücheninsel
002 Urlaub auf der Kücheninsel
Five square metres. No more. Walls close. Ceiling low. But still — an island.
Not big. Not grand. Just there. In the middle. Holding everything.
Chopping board. Coffee cups. Crumbs from breakfast. Elbows at lunch.
It gives what it can. No waste. No wandering. Circulation trimmed to the bone. Turn, reach, done.
Two people, sometimes ten. Not much room to move. But no one minds.
They lean. They stand. They pass the knife. The drink.
One cooks. One stirs. One tells a story.
A meal comes together. Slowly. Together.
The island keeps the centre. Keeps the flow close. No corners to get lost in.
It draws people in. Not with grandeur. With closeness.
You face each other. You laugh between steps.
The room, though small, expands.
In this smallness — just enough.
A place to cook. A place to drink. A place to talk.
A place to stay a while.
´´´´