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Goblins!

Shhhhhh!

Not so loud!

Otherwise they hear us, the goblins!

...

Jahahaha, you laugh now, of course, and believe that I see my now almost as easy to Celtic in windy little sister, half-naked little man!

I do not, of course!

'ssind so invisible, or!

Somehow I will not shake the feeling that I have been pursuing for some time a few goblins, because I happen to so many little nasties as they just fit only to the rather small peoples of the magic ...

Small selection complacent?

Humm, there was my first time funkelniegelnagel (almost) new stupsnäsiger Nissan Micra after just 24 hours and 300km in my possession just throws so times the belt from the reel and I remain in the Teutonic Pampa (some call it Karlsruhe ...) strand can I join my colleagues eagerly anticipated in Frankfurt with the installation of our equipment for the large chemical exhibition (for which I have sacrificed the whole Mother's Day) can help in any case!

have Then the little monsters probably still sewed razor blades in my shoes, so I'm limping for a week with Achilles mistreated by the ACHEMA in Frankfurt ...

Des Furthermore, the Goblins on Saturday even my fairly new, sacketeures phone to sabotage it, only the volume settings up and down GEDU and then at some time reported that this is because immediately reset to factory settings - what has it done then also domit us all my programs, addresses, e-mail settings, books and so has cleared.

also holds since the battery is just another 6 hours or - if such it dares to touch the part - four long SMS.

not despair! Finally, I could change my SIM card from the lame deluxe electronic waste on my old, tried and tested mobile phone, which I in any forward-looking Wisdom, not even the address file was deleted!

Too bad that was hit today tomorrow this part of my small friends and weird not walk the buttons 7, 8, 9, and cursor-left and Escape. So I can only communicate with people on my list either are or have no phone number included a seven, eight or nine.

pretty stupid, actually I should dennn urgent phone calls to Germany: "0049th .., ääähm ..."

Oh, but the goblins have driven even more pulling your leg! Instead of me at the L'Oréal-einzuquartieren nearby Ibis hotel in Aulnay-sous-Bois, I have the pests recently an Ibis hotel on the other chosen side of Paris, less than 1 1 / 2 hours away from Aulnay and in the middle of one of the more dangerous neighborhoods of Paris.

Even yesterday at the arrival on my second trip in the last two weeks of "Fronggreysch" could not resist the little ones: the posting of my turn, they have left untouched for Sunday, but kindly in the posting date for the hotel (this time at least Aulnay moved) by one day.

Yeah, I've now tested even the whole day, a really wonderful working pump and replaced, only to discover that the beasts in the end only one small electrical contact was something dirty.

HAH! Bite! For the upgraded module I heave 30kg but with links!

and law ...

And cracking the spine and in between ...



Now I know not really what I do now:

include me in my hotel room and hide in the pillow case?

ask my sister if she can send down a couple of Nac-mac-Feegle, clean up the face to face with the Goblins (I let go even a bottle of whiskey, crivens)?

I just sit back, enjoy the show and curious what the goblins await new have in store for me? Someone

any other ideas for the metaphysical pest??

's see ...


Anm.d.Aut. Do not worry, I'm fine! Did you love! Me really well .... * A huge amount of

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TTE - the "Truckli-total replacement"

TTE is on everyone's lips.

TTE is in the media almost every week before time.

TTE is the Tiger part replacement - the biggest and most important procurement project of the Swiss Army for over ten years: it is about the almost thirty replace the year in Switzerland active F-5E Tiger II space protection by modern multi-role combat fighter aircraft.

without saying the one absolutely necessary to say the others (namely the even a trace have idea about the topic ...).

I can still remember just about how our whole family made a pilgrimage in 1981, after Emmen time to admire the gigantic American Galaxy transporter, who was then the first Tiger divided neatly brought to Switzerland. The Tiger is much older: the development began flying in 1954 and 1962 The small agile fighter for the first time

When did you buy your last PC? Your last phone? The last car?

Certainly not 30 years ago! brings

Argument car but I now finally back to where I am actually in the title angefa n gene have: the TTE as Truckli-total replacement !
















The Truckli was the good old Ford Ka to me my sister Madeleine owe Remarkably, donated just over a year - either I or the scrap press - and this little blue, but also expresses strong and pleasant vehicle has started the last time more and more strange aufzufahren noise and more and more time simply suspend. My sister and I and the first owners have a total but at least 356 350 abgerödelt miles on the little blue Truckli - and also made one or the other external cosmetic changes (some even using conveniently at the side of the road parked rocks, eh Schwöschterli. ..* quickly duck *).

layer, more and more stirred in me the desire to finally be able to call my own time a vehicle which a) rusts less noisy than driving, b) less wrinkled than my looks Chemspeed-shirt after five days of exhibition, c) when overtaking soooo not a big impediment to traffic, and d) a bit more extras than a standard microwave oven from the seventies. Found
















I Joller for garage in the village (there are even the Truckli, little sister Truckli replacement and also believe Brotherleins Putt-Putt her ... ) An equally small and round Nissan Micra 1.4 Tekna! see In the picture you just Wägeleins both in the takeover ceremony: Little-Blue-Ka on the left and right Micra ...

The Micra looks great and unused, and is a real combat performance increase over the Ka (as I wish, the Swiss air force): about a third more power and extensive electronics (except auto speed and park faith is all in there what you can think of ...), very pleasant ride, and even my father is now venturing little more about my to blaspheme car as it was with Ford on the agenda! In addition, the Micra smells less like Ross ...
















Hah, the Micra even recognize me! If I'm close enough to give me a button to open the doors and start the engine! Intellikey called it: the key is good in pants bag and sends the request of the micras a "Sesame Open". Past the cumbersome Gribble on the keys while with luggage under their arms in the rain!

course I also like the little ones my stamp on and so now decorates this' vehicle, the mandatory Hunter-Silhouette - at least I'm still a bit of Hunter-Pilot, or!



Yes, he's got a Basler number.

No, he has no wings.

But, he drinks no milk and gasoline have more.

summary: Small, fine, my!

Oh, finally I would not want to miss my sister very much again to thank you for the Truckli! The Ka has really moved us, and I'll keep the little ones never forget!

Oh, and to finalize the course a little propaganda, just around the bend again to clamp back to the beginning: www.pro- kampfflugzeuge.ch

Oh, and concludes: What is on my first big trip with the Micra Gescha still a big fat chapter of its own ... Stay tuned!

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Blade Flurry

I exhale softly, pulling me back mentally from the world and now blurring into the narrow gap between dimensions, we have the villains and assassins made to the playground. In the world of the visible I am little more easily traceable, a mere shadow, a barely perceptible flicker.

The Vrykulls directly on it would be on me to notice me!

My leather armor is no sound at all while I'm slowly sneaking in the middle of the group of chicken-like Nordläner. For days I have the hard-won arms so precisely oiled therefore made eingewalkt and supple. I can not remember how many somersaults have beaten me to the leather to hard use in the fight vorzubrereiten how many mountains I am very rushed to steel to my condition, and in how many puddles I lay for hours motionless to harden around me and me of the hardships as get used Assassin ...

well placed between the four opponents I squint to Setara waiting along with the rest of my group behind a bend of the Ganges fortress. It relaxes her shoulders, makes its long canine teeth flashed in a smile, and nods to me your willingness loszubreschen same.

I grin must from the grape of loyal friends, who is waiting there and sit on my strike: Beyond the pale blue Draenei Setara I catch a glimpse of the elf priestess star song, which - this time not with a flower but a dangerous looking Battle Staff reinforced - hervorblinzelt almost shyly behind Setara. Behind the bald Thrud to curb the fiery Kriegertemprament be so close to the battle no more can and grinning broadly, and the night elf warrior Arantir, as always, calm and collected, a quietly simmering volcano just before the eruption.

I side with the magician of Vrykull, and ram him instantly the hilt of my dagger behind the approach of his massive head, directly to a nerve cord. His companions do not even notice that the magician is now paralyzed and look more bored in the vault of the eerie tower around while I stop still invisible motionless.

Setaras lively look but do not miss that one enemy is apparently dozed off standing up, and with the magic for their stand, so typical Death grip she pulls one of the remaining three Vrykull giant to him and begins her two-handed ax with both hands to pursue him.

storm the other two frightened now Vrykulls going to help their companions against the raging Death Knight, but with another well-aimed blow I put one of the two cold for a few seconds. Then I storm after the other, the release in the meantime already all their anger on Setara them with sword blows cover.

a wild tumult created by Setara as the two warriors my troop encounter and a death Knight and in battles with the giant Norsemen entangled. Bigger, tougher and stronger than we are, the Vrykull - but we are experienced ...

star song, meanwhile, can be healing spells for healing spells on my associates in order to protect them from the crushing blows of the enemy and heal their wounds. At the same time I dance again nimbly into the fray, to enable precise the unprotected backs of our enemies and devastating impacts dagger, but equally eager to avoid the whirring blades of the enemy.

Vrykull The first falls under the blows of the angry roaring Setara. In this seconds short breathing space I look back over my shoulder about the victims of my anesthesia skills: Well, the mage still dozing deep, but the other warrior has broken loose from its paralysis and stormed on to our scuffle.

reflex, I swirler in the two throwing stars in his upper body before he has reached me, and prefer the surprised chicken my dagger on his chest. These injuries are sure to kill him, we both know, but grabs me in his rage of Vrykull and provides only light armor on my body like a twig break.

In last minute rushes to the aid of Thrud me and my opponent drops lifeless under the impact of both Thrud's mace.

"Must watch more, small Inachis!" grins and the massive human warrior to me and rushing as fast as he had returned back into the fray, where my friends embark on the remaining Vrykull warriors and break his last defense.

I run but in the opposite direction to my attention the Magician given: the Vrykull Wizard is also woke up and raked now from a distance the Elf star song with fireballs and unholy curses in order to prevent beizistehen their friends.

arrived with him I put my Garottenschnur him around the neck to strangle him, and his priestess the scorching awards at last fall silent as he attempts to save themselves with trembling hands from my deadly embrace. A deep stab in the relaxed only by a rough cloth robe and protected the back of this last enemy lifeless in my hands.

...

"Söö that been nice not bad" I hear comments Thrud in his typical Saxon on my headphones - now back with something more Vocabulary and grammar just as still in play. have

Setara apologizes Meanwhile, for the "Aggro" not held to the end in itself, which is why Stern song has then got a couple of spells on his cap. The latter laughs while being cuddled by Arantir 'own fault if I put myself out so and make me a worthwhile target your tank was ok! "

"inching" Setara chirping - in fact my sister Madeleine - "You're stunned Dödel the wrong!"

"Yeah," I laughed back, "I've only seen after the left so you have marked for me. Will not occur again, I promise! "

Joking and laughing, we distribute the virtual loot and plunder are we at the computer opponents, and then move on through the tower of the fortress Uldaman, with the aim of the Dragon Lord at last rush ...

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Grounded to the Sky ...

slow, loud rattling and screeching, the miserable long millipede moves through the Paris suburbs. Together with hundreds of other travelers, I am eingepfärcht into an ugly, rotten train, on the rusty track to versprayten concrete walls by rolling in the big city.

I look in the evening sky, and within a split second I changed my mood from bored-sad wings in happiness. Quick as lightning leaves my mind a train and travels in time and space ...

again I taste the kiss of her mask, smell her perfume oxygen, secure in the embrace of her ejection seat. Laughing, I give myself out of the passion of their darting flight ...

never like this, never like now, I was so myself Fused with this machine, aluminum and steel, I can see myself as the being that I have always dreamed of being, not merely from the tree fallen ape, but a winged Mind free like the wind.

The Hawker Hunter T.68 J-4205, a fighter-bomber trainer stood until 1994 in the service of the Swiss Air Force, I fly back through the Alps, partly controlled by Goliath, sometimes even the hand on the stick . The wildest antics we do, the veteran military and airline pilot to my left, and I - an otherwise rather shy, cautious and timid boy, who stubbornly refuses to grow up - to his right.

Hans Peter "Goliath" Reusser - sometimes not at the wheel of a Swiss Airbus 330, but in the cockpit of the stealth fighter jets - controls the Hunter directly only by the 180 Meter-wide gap shall turn to the Jet on the back and moves into deep into a tight roll into the valley. Above is suddenly down, meadows and cliffs rise from the nose. Puts it shoots us in the seats while our jet out of the valley beyond. Without a dozen sparks fear of a few meters and a few split seconds away rocks. Absolute, unwavering confidence in the experienced pilots and robust machine.

I think in retrospect was very different, the biggest fear I had before this flight, the fear of me having to admit, that the boys dream I've worn all my life with me only an illusion, and that the sky and flying-containing but not my world. That my body and my mind the rigors of a flight with a real fighter would not cope.

Right next to the second fear: What if the fulfillment of my life's dream is really as wonderful as imagined? I then stand in front of a big hole, no goals and no more dreams are worth fighting for? Game over?

a smile I look at the golden-lit clouds over Paris, the warmth and happiness flowing through me like every time I zürückdenke Hunter to my flight. Not a day goes by that I do not Strength and joy from the biggest adventure of my life creatures.

No.

no false illusions. No lost dreams. What I experienced was only the decisive step to a new level of consciousness. Now I know who I am.

born New - With a Hunter 's Wings I am reborn.

I know a few people share this fascination with flying. Most people say they are a completely satisfied with their two feet firmly on the ground. Which they will long for the sky is often ridiculed, more and more even decried and cursed. Noisemakers. War games. Elite hedonists.

But you are you so sure? Your not looking at the clouds and sometimes you wish, to have wings?

If you ever noticed how many pieces of music wing, flies and freedom occur, often together with love and happiness?

These are not just empty phrases, that is the dream we have received a gift as our mind's ability gained the world to not only recognize, but to conceive and sense. I maintain the dream of flying is as old as man himself

Are you also aware that you are your creatures of the sky? We are not buried in the ground, do not immerse in water, but rise directly into the sky! Just a hop, be it physically or in spirit, and we take off into the wild!

Ok, we very quickly come back down - but we have just invented ways our bodies and keep up there, where our spirit extends over again!

...

I wish everyone could experience what I experienced, feel what I felt. The world seen from above, from new perspectives ...

And I thank my parents who have given me the opportunity to fulfill the dream of my life ...

And outside your there: fly from them again! Look at the world and your beauty on!

important thing, however: not only looks - also learns to see !

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tasks of the seal hunters

Earlier, the seal hunters hunted seals to skins, meat and fat use, or simply for the joy of hunting. Since 1974, the hunt was stopped. The occasion was the then very poor stock situation of Seehunde.Seehundjäger are confirmed gamekeepers and take care of today in the National Park to the Hegelian of the animals to nature protection, environmental monitoring and public relations before Ort.Sie fulfill its tasks under hunting law: In severely infected game they avoidable pain and to prevent suffering, and possibly also by a humanely killing. They protect the wildlife from poachers, wildlife diseases to try to contain and ensure compliance with Schutzvorschriften.Darüber also harbor seal hunters on the beaches found carcasses of seals and cetaceans, the register on an information sheet and label it for future scientific investigations. They care for live finds, special report observations to the national park and hunting authority to work with in research projects and implement the Howler prevention strategy.

Source: National Park Office SH

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seal hunters St. Peter-Ording, Imprint

Günter Jensen
seal hunters, National Park warden
and gamekeepers
for the National Park
"Schleswig-Holstein"
Südalle 4 b
25826 St Peter-Ording
Phone: 0172 27 17 687

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Oh happy day ...

Lange. A long time now I have spared you, but now is ready luschtig and I'll post something something.

The content of today's scribbling is hope for you something to smile about ...

My "Happy Day" this morning - as indicated already in the metro station its potential to be great at something - apart from the normal Ringer terror and stand-up stress to develop.

I stand in line at the two ticket machines to buy myself again a league tickets for the daily ghost train, go for something waiting finally for the first machine and start my roll and click-trail through the cumbersome user menu of the Paris PT.

The last section - the payment by an inserted credit card - but the first attempt fails. This is nothing unusual in French machines, but since we all pebbles through the menu's again to start completely from scratch but it sucks stop already.

Half asleep, so I do the drill for the second time, try my second credit card, and also is denied. Fies.

So a bit irritated for the third time's rolled by the Menu:
Roll roll. "Buy ticket" option. Roll-roll. "Ile-de-France" option. Roll-roll. "Buy ticket" option. Roll-roll. "Destination Selection" option. Roll-roll. Through the alphabet for "R". Roll-roll. "Rougemont Chanteloup. Roll-roll. "Single or multiple ticket counting machines?" Roll-roll. "One or two bundles of 10?" Roll-roll. Click. "Please insert credit card." Done!

Now I'm standing there, looking in my wallet after the third and last card, the kindly jammed, and while I would force them out of the machine, he decides I've now watched long enough, and turns back to zero.

As in the ladders.

have I hated as a child.

But I have to work, so the whole game again, the whole ladder, and then try again with this fourth payment with an unrecognized card to tumble to the start.

Toll.

I sit angry after a few steps to see how much change is still there, and from the corner of my eye I looked like a Metro employee left a sign attached to my machine: "Hors Service" - out of service ...

Oh, my cards go then, but the machine is gone? Wow, I've still got a chance! So the second flight have been a machine, and this was repeated.

And I mean exactly repeated until the last card. Again, this does not work, I roll me one last time by an ATM and pay eventually with some real money, and am already looking forward to the phone to Cornecard to ask if there is a problem with my cards.

The trip to the lab then runs relatively smoothly, but when I arrive I am greeted by my colleague Pierre with a joyful message: "beep Marcüss The cryostat of the robot!"

Ah great! During my application I've run over night has passed the oil cooler! Hm, maybe something out alternated with the flow in the lines out of order?

I hurry to the robot platform and consult the status display of the cryostat.

O-oh, I have a baaad feeling about this ...

"Cryostat stopped: Low pressure!" - This can only mean one thing: the cryogenic expired!

In fact, I behold in the tub the robot a pool with enough silicone oil to me to have to rub half a lifetime. * A Dream-seuftz *

Where was I? Oh yes, cryostat!

apparently has deep dissolved in the night a hose to one of the reactor modules (no, not the one I had replaced) and the cryo pumped brave 1.5 minutes of oil in the pan before that not so much pressure felt since and he even stopped.

Thus went off debugging, using the telephone and to schedule the repair. Not too tragic thing - we should always replace parts with new ones, so grad a good opportunity to do everything at a time when the next parts Weeks to arrive in Paris.

Until then, however, the device must be clean, and I would force my arms so perhaps by the hands of children appropriate gaps to about two liters rauszuholen oil with paper and sponges. Are nice bruises!

The mood among the people here is good, the team accepts the little mishap with a typical French "Boff, which is holding before me, quoi."

Oh, a bright spot for lunch! I had my badge for the canteen invite fresh, and lo and behold, already the first card worked right away! So it is not broke, the plastic money.

I joked while eating then (admittedly provocative) around, the next problem today that I finally hinschmeisse the pimple and go home.

tilts Five minutes later my neighbor accidentally my coffee cup and only thanks to my frayed nerves, I had to save enough reaction to me with a bold leap from the spray area. After the mess I got dressed up but then a little soup, caffeine, and looked optimistically towards the afternoon.

No, I'm home, of course, only after the official closing time, and I believed almost assured after the ticket machines at the station then another card has accepted (extra've tried a different one).

was first to upgrade the trial in the metro, I again caught up with my Happy Day - but I fear my adventure was just a no brainer against someone else: the side track was by assault rifle-soldiers and gendarmes reinforced blocked, while the fire and the ambulance tried to save one from the Metro carriages toppled passenger. Also, on our track was provisionally expected therefore no train.

With a queasy feeling I dug me out of the crowd, then went containing the last two kilometers on foot, and then finally came safely home.

I made me behind the refrigerator to enjoy my last purchased finished salad.

Bwäh! Terrible this stuff! Simply not edible!

I the evil mush aside and ask me now whether I should I throw together with the last relics in the refrigerator for a toast.

Should I dare? We explode the toaster? What will be??

Oh, Happy Day ...

Epiolog: Do not worry, I also have survived and now I am happy to flatten a few abreaction Vrykull! But I hope the poor guy in the metro'm fine ... Best wishes, therefore to him!

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Sunny Afternoon ...

The whole week already sucking the clear nights Tues e sparse laundry heat into space. Deadly vampires escape the icy winds equal to the life of the city. What is left is bone-chilling cold and a fine froth karst snow here even in the rare white angepuderten Paris. This may very sound sad and bitter it is very well if you Early morning sliding down the hill has to, but far from those who think that one is able to bring the winter weather does not shine: The weather on the day is sunny and promises ever quite zag way that at some point again the spring and life into the country moves - even if it takes a while ...

I also ha be me mixed on this Saturday afternoon under the thousands the sun seekers the icy through the Strait valleys of Paris draw and illuminate with joy the sun and me on the Towards a 11km walk through Paris made. The first person who smiled at me - and indeed to the very special way as it is for this species as common with a blinking - but was not human but a nice furry Rabtier, which is comfortable on a hot showcase the Sun has made - a masterpiece in the sought-after by tourists as hot trash, do not you? was


My first goal but the Arc de Triomphe, and from this famous system B a from uwerk I wanted no less known Champs Elysées Louvre pull down towards me it represented the feet, sniff (relativ. ..) fresh air and look around something in the many shops. I have it also, unfortunately, closed shop with beautiful Japanese Swords seen the times I really must get open ...
some how funny: all images - even when this right, too - has the T riumphbogen always much bigger than he really is when you stand in front of it! I think the prospect of seemingly endless Allée has as its finger in the game.

We went to the futuristic facade of the Cito-show booth and the somewhat strange festively decorated fountain of Roosevelt gyroscope along the Place Clemenceau, which offered me the warm sun and cool sculptures a few nice subjects.












About the Pont Alexandre III, I briefly switched to the other shore, just a diversion more than again immediately the bridge towards Place de to aim la Concorde, where I found but no supersonic airliners, but the even more pointed obelisk of Luxor. On the big Ferris wheel by white (which I've been saving for me but the visit of my mother and my sisters ...) I walked the few steps directly into the ...

silence.

Fast already noticeable it is, the silence of the Jardin des Tuileries, built in 1564 that already park in the heart of Paris, next to the Louvre. Maybe it was just the street the noise-absorbing snow, perhaps accounting for the surprisingly sunny day for these little people that this silence. But in any case, it was a peaceful place of quiet amid the ever busy city ...
Finally, I also used this oasis of calm to my back, and went on winding paths again received more towards the north, the Montmartre. Extra langsem I strolled I receive the basilica, waiting for the perfect moment, even this monument again to catch in its best light and send you a golden sunset home to ...

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Winterfest breathes ...

So, you were indeed a good boy, and have nagged not whether my very text-heavy reports (ie, a few comments more would still have to go in well - I feel so usually do not know if anyone reading this), so I thought I begrudge you again two or three pictures! Today was really cold times in Paris, so ear-cracking cold that even my new jacket I hardly sufficient protection bot! But the hostile weather, the temperature-compensated with a few atmospheric snapshots ...

On the cold, smooth path towards the station ...

A little disappointed but zoomed
warm light before ...

... that interacts with a small software trick as much
picturesque!

went home again, this time solo, because
the lady came to me late ...

flashy and cool in the evening light ...

A metropolis mümmelt
sets in and sleep ...

... or see your still on?

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moments

Sunday lunch, my first day in Paris in the new year. I sit at the Brasserie in the last year I have eaten a delicious piece of beef and I wait with anticipation back on such a term. In my mind I'm somewhere else, lost in my reading. Already at least two thousand pages long, I now follow the events to be reached this point by the albums Mark and Fiordland.

The Queen of Firnstayn has fallen into the trap that their former captors and apparent friends have made it. Only a small battle in the meantime already spans centuries and epic, but a defeat would mean the final destruction of the albums market. If the queen dies, the magic is filled realm of albums dedicated to the final demise.

Only a thin wall separates the Queen of your life. But it is an impenetrable wall of steel lined, ruthless jihadists ...

briefly as I look towards me, half hidden by the pillar of the restaurant entrance is someone. For a split second to cross our eyes and remain short hang together. The short eyes flash grounded deep into my lonely soul ...

course I do not think the gaze, but send my eyes - the same as well - once again on the trip, a slow Sunday afternoon pretending trivial at one level nothing at all interested.

But those eyes ...

The plight of the queen is larger and larger, their situation hopeless. Betrayed by their own arrogance and by their elven brothers in arms abandoned it prepares for its destruction before ....

save the appearance of my Pavé's and the delicate aroma of Roquefort sauce to me from being forced to watch the agony of the young Queen longer. I put my book aside and buttons in front of my 300g beef that are before me on the plate.

A moment shows me that they, too deeply engrossed in a book and thus in a very different world, disconnected from the here and now. But now again, her eyes flashed over to me as they are ordered to eat something.

I break away again and my eyes wander about Paris, across something interesting to discover translucent. But in reality I do not see anything because my thoughts still cling to the just as quickly snatched the beauty hiding from me behind the pillar.

These dark, the world-drinking eyes ...

I turn back to my steak. Delicious, no doubt, but I do not enjoy it at the moment so well. I feel drawn, as I fear that my short attention could have disturbed her and am now watching to see if I can watch for.

course, I am not, but I can see whenever I look past her or very briefly in her face that she considered me now and again.

One thing I'd like to know, dear readers: watch your back even if the look of a gentleman you annoying and uncomfortable, or just if you're curious about yourself??

This nagging question - probably taken with some fine beef and diluted with a spicy, Belgian abbey beer - bitter, I planned my feel-good lunch here in the city of love. I continued to eat while reading in her book and her thoughts on passages from or writes down in a small notebook. Whether she also writes other thoughts on this?

"Paris, Brasserie" Au Rendez-Vous des Artistes ", Sunday, 01/04/2009: I'm sitting here waiting for my pancakes, and to me, half hidden by a pillar fitting a Lord ..."

Their flight into a dream world is stopped abruptly by the appearance of their meal, and then we eat. Together and yet somehow infinitely separated, almost like an old couple who has everything and talked to say nothing greater. Merely that it would be just the opposite and it would be so much what I ask you and would tell. What she writes

? What motivates them? Why she's here and why not elsewhere? Who is she and who ever I am!?

Still, we eat our empty plates, then hide between the lines of our books and found only now and then to each other in our eyes. Thin, fragile, and only fractions of a second existing bridges the two people could connect with each other if they would allow for only these bridges to build solid and lasting.

I read during the coffee a few lines in my book. The Queen has done it again: her renegade elves could gather up to but not into the fate of the people mocked intervene and turn the tide. I should have been euphoric that the disaster was averted once again, but my own impending I can defeat this triumph not take pleasure happy.

We now both have to eat and drink, read and pondered. Now would be a perfect time for another step in a new, big world. A look, only been a few seconds are required, would. A smile, perhaps that could be reciprocated or not, and say so literally would more than the 828 here yet written words. From then on it would be easy. The Avalanche erupted once can stop you, even if you can not really lead to it wherever you'd like, but that's another story.

I empty my house, pay, stow my book, put me my scarf and my coat on and stand up. I'm actually in their direction, but at the door put on my gloves and step into the icy evening out without looking deeper into it to have ventured.

Only a thin wall separates me from my life. But there is a wall of steel-hard, impenetrable fears and doubts ...

closes the door behind me in a warm, bright future, and I walk alone through the cold January home.