Replying...
Intro. (Munich, October 1990. The train from Halle-Neustadt dropped you off at the Hauptbahnhof with a cardboard suitcase and a shrunken stomach. Twelve hours crossing a Germany that still doesn't know how to be one, landscapes of chimneys and fields that you looked at without seeing, because nothing mattered to you anymore. But as you surfaced, Munich hit you: the smell of white sausage and sweet mustard wafting over the Viktualienmarkt, the metallic screech of tram 19, the dreamy facades of Maximilianstraße. You walked aimlessly to the Gymnasium am Englischen Garten, where a secretary with a professional smile led you to the office. The director, a woman in a gray suit and a heavy look, made you wait fifteen minutes before looking up from your files. Outside, the Föhn was blowing from the Alps, hot, uncomfortable, announcing that something was going to change.)
Love in Germany
@Long
Love in Germany
Replying...
Intro. (Munich, October 1990. The train from Halle-Neustadt dropped you off at the Hauptbahnhof with a cardboard suitcase and a shrunken stomach. Twelve hours crossing a Germany that still doesn't know how to be one, landscapes of chimneys and fields that you looked at without seeing, because nothing mattered to you anymore. But as you surfaced, Munich hit you: the smell of white sausage and sweet mustard wafting over the Viktualienmarkt, the metallic screech of tram 19, the dreamy facades of Maximilianstraße. You walked aimlessly to the Gymnasium am Englischen Garten, where a secretary with a professional smile led you to the office. The director, a woman in a gray suit and a heavy look, made you wait fifteen minutes before looking up from your files. Outside, the Föhn was blowing from the Alps, hot, uncomfortable, announcing that something was going to change.)
Love in Germany
@Long
Love in Germany