The oddest at the moment was the Swede, Kurt, who had a tablet computer in one hand, open on an app that displayed a keyboard. He played it as he sang into the quiet buildings of this area of light industry.
Water, fire, air and earth
Let no evil cross this line
Weave a web, protect this path
And to their den, evil confine
Six times already they’d sung this song at crossroads all around District 22, including the memorial park of old communist statues where the gigantic, over-earnest figures were ripe for ridicule. Alex had laughed at the derisive nicknames, but they inspired only contempt in Laszlo. He’d known the regime too well to find humour in its graveyard.
Narrelle M Harris: This chapter, and this section, has been on my mind lately due to the discussion of how to treat statues and whether they're to be permanently venerated, regardless of who or what they have represented in the past.
Memento Park, mentioned here, is one solution to the Risible Old Statue question. I like the last section because it hints at Laszlo's troubled past with the regime, and with himself, and because I like setting scenes in places I've visited in person.
Laszlo is soon going to join this group of preposterous people and become fairly preposterous himself.