The Sacred Text of Dadaism


Thailand. I’m feeding a stray cat. I pay for a tin of tuna in Baht. An old woman feeds animals in the street. 
A rare Dadaist text. It is written on tiles on the wall of a flooded sewer. A French woman is told the text is so important, so rife with meaning, even in the font choice and spaces between words, that she drowns in search of it. She swims through clear toilet water, blue tiles beneath her. Through a flooded bathroom and children’s bedroom. She hears children through the walls. Down into a dark sewer, where her breath finally fails, as she glimpses the sacred tile text, her drowned body swept away like a stool, into a cavernous darkness. 
I visit a family. The boy is troubled. I pray for him. I leave holy water and sacred catholic charms to protect him. I ask his parents if they have ampules to store the holy water on leather straps around his neck. The mother is called away next door. It is a cold night. I talk to the father about exorcism. I have a kit, and know a former priest who can help. We go to see the boy. He is missing from his room. We find him in his mattress in a wooden garage. His hair is grey, his clothing covered in frost. He describes being visited by a boy, a devil, a demon, who ‘floated very carefully’. I tell him that he has been very brave. It’s raining outside. I receive a message on my phone. A secret society have kicked me out, after I shared a story in public about a woman drowning in search of a sacred Dadaist text, written on tiles, in a dark, deep sewer. 

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