Dr. Stephan Pflaum

The black square in the sky began transmitting at noon, beaming its geometry downward in rays of pure opinion. The houses below received the signal in stripes— magenta conviction, cyan doubt, yellow certainty— arranging themselves in vertical arguments behind windows that couldn’t agree on transparency. Pink insisted it was the foreground. Green claimed depth. The … Read more

GEDICHT / POEM Die Frau, die ihre Farben vergaß Sie stieg ein mit einem Gesicht aus reinem Weiß. Bei Donnersbergerbrücke bekam sie Augen— blau wie gestrichene Lügen, grün wie verpasste Versprechen. Die Nase kam bei Hackerbrücke, violett und entrüstet. Ihre Wangen wuchsen mit jedem Halt— orange für die Wut auf Montage, rot für die Scham … Read more

GEDICHT / POEM Der Mann gegenüber von Mittwoch Sein Gesicht zerfiel in Vierecke, als die Bahn anfuhr. Jede Farbe behauptete eine andere Richtung— das Blau wollte nach Pasing, das Orange nach Freising. Seine Augen blieben stehen, während seine Wangen weiterfuhren. Zwischen Ostbahnhof und Marienplatz verlor er seinen Mund an Zone M. Die Stirn argumentierte lautstark … Read more

The Colors had been living together for years when they finally admitted it wasn’t working. Red was too loud. Blue claimed to need more space, which was ironic given how much space it already occupied. Yellow kept interrupting. Green had become passive-aggressive. “We need mediation,” said a small orange shape, the only one still trying … Read more

The room was drawn in blue ink on Tuesday, but by Wednesday it had forgotten the instructions. The black lines that were supposed to define its boundaries kept changing their minds about where walls should end and where space should begin. An architect arrived to repair the confusion. She brought new blueprints, but the room … Read more

The Sitter had been sitting for three days when she noticed her edges were no longer hers. They belonged to the blue triangles behind her, which had been slowly claiming her outline while she wasn’t paying attention. “Excuse me,” she said to a particularly assertive purple plane. “That’s my shoulder you’re intersecting.” “I disagree,” said … Read more

The Conductor arrived at the concert hall to find the building had collapsed inward overnight, but was still functioning. The architecture had decided to become its own audience, folding and refolding until every surface faced every other surface simultaneously. “The show must go on,” said a pink beam to a blue support column. They were … Read more

The Directions held a meeting to determine which way was correct. North brought a magenta argument. South arrived with blue evidence. East and West came together, couldn’t agree on who was whom, and split into orange and green factions. The meeting was held inside a triangle, which was the wrong venue. Triangles, as the Directions … Read more

The building’s reflection had filed for independence on Tuesday morning. It no longer wished to mirror the structure above, it explained in a tersely worded manifesto. It wanted to pursue its own architectural ambitions. The building above was concerned. It was a cheerful arrangement of colored squares—pink, yellow, magenta, coral—assembled with optimistic geometry. Below, in … Read more

The Walker had been walking for three hours but hadn’t moved. The tunnel kept generating itself around her at exactly the speed she traveled, so technically she remained perfectly still while covering enormous distance. The colors were arguing about which direction was forward. Yellow insisted forward was a warm concept. Pink claimed forward had been … Read more