I am now very old, on the threshold, ready to sail, you might say, to Toteninseln. Yet I live. And Inga, my immortal love, is here too. We still haunt those forests and lakes, this is our home. We listen to the wind, to the rain, to the owls. For most people we are now almost invisible. We have travelled a lot, and always come back, here, to our country.
So, I remember. When we were incredibly young, still unaware of our strength, of how different we were, from others. Inga was ahead of me, my initiator, my guide. She taught me, how to listen, how to drink. In turn I transferred the knowledge I had, the science, what I already knew about “society”. I gave her everything, and she gave me everything. Evidently we were outsider. It was a miracle that we found each other. Or perhaps not. Certain things are preordained. They happen because they must.
This is our story.
Ein Kommentar zu „Erinnerungen“