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Morrens, Peter

BRAINBOX /first edition/, unit 3 (2006). Johan De Wilde, Peter Morrens, Ward Denys.
crox 211, solo project (2007).
crox-cards 55 and 56 (2007).
crox-boek nr 10 (2008).
BRAINBOX /second edition/, unit 4 (2008). Deborah Delva, Griet Dobbels, Peter Morrens.

BRAINBOX - unit 3 / fragment of the text/

12:50 /day 41/
johan, peter /thomas böing (crox 191)/

They are busy on the terrace. Peter has rolled up the sleeves of his green shirt. Sunlight. Autumn sun. A dog inspects the roof. 

Crox3 has been emptied almost completely. Anton's ytong construction is greased with clay. Lines of chalk indicate where the apparatuses of unit 2 were. A roll of foil stands abliquely against the wall at the right. On the black table, now close to the sliding door of the office, are the leftovers of a lunch. 
Johan drags an electric drill to the terrace. They are constructing a floor here, using the entire supply of 20 mm mdf: the roof tarrace is transformed into a room.  
In the large space clear daylight comes in. In the mirror of the lighting a green spot; Peter's shirt. He handles the drill, making the wooden floor more reliable. The supply of mdf is halved; large parts couldn't have been lifted to the roof through the staircase. 
Johan descends the stairs, fumbles in a box and finds a screw.   
An aside: the e-mail address of Lucia, is it chinkicheinli or did she meanwhile change to another address? He disappears to the upper deck. He's is back in less than the blink of an eye. Now it's a cutter. He puts the sharp knife on the workbench in the corridor, and walks to the far end of the large space.  
Peter is squatting on the upper deck, busy reinforcing the wooden terrace floor.  
Johan carries four brownwashed planks. Above, in the full sunlight, the uncoloured side lights up milkwhite. 
‘We must make sure that...,’ remarks Peter.
‘True,’ admits Johan.
‘...The lateral one. But then... Then the third plank has to...’
There is a problem. ‘Ai ai ai,’ oracles Johan, ‘...ah!’ He feels the underside of the floor covering.
’Oof. There's something under it...’
‘What?’ Peter seems not to get exactly what the other means.
‘Ther was something below.’

Suddenly there are footsteps in the corridor.
Thomas Böing enters the large room. He follows the current author to the terrace where Johan and Peter are occupied.

‘Fabulous isn't it, that ‘movie’-English,’ Johan is grinning.