Just as the door of the apartment is closed, so is the light on the stairs. A rumble on the stairs, quick steps, palpitations. A double sweat under four sweaters and three socks (did anyone write anything here about minus 15 degrees ?!). From the over-intense media consumption you now have: the police report in your head and your armpit sweat.
As this widespread fear settles in the abdomen, the smiling face of the next-door neighbor appears on the bonnet, with the girl and teenage daughter behind it. Are you going on a night shift? No, out in the snow and you? Fine snowball fight!
Greens on both sides, one sweating on the red cheek (“Good night!”), The other cooling properly (“Have fun!”). This Saturday night at twelve o’clock Berlin is at its feet. Get out of here quickly, where the snow will break and be fresh shortly after fall.
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That smells cool! Immediately checked bed linen, cheese fondue and mountain panorama, childhood on the head … there again screaming, stomping, screaming. When a snowball almost hits me, I keep my bag a little tight, even though it only has a thermos with a grove and two glasses.
Again the two boys chase each other like kids with white missiles. Stomach relaxes. At the other end of the bridge, your best friend is already waving his cane. With him is the grove. We will walk as far as we can! It starts to snow again. Do you smell it?