Rain, unnaturally strong, making an unnerving sound as it slams into the window pane. The wind drives the drops and they leave a feeling of unease behind in the trail that they trace, trickling down the glass. Storm front Benjamin has whipped its way through Germany, earlier leaving me soaked, frozen, and tangled. Even as I snuggle deeper into the blankets I can feel the bite of cold, damp air somehow seeping through and in.
Supressing sleep and a wild mix of feelings, I think about the day and the many impressions that have streamed in. I had been to see the Doctor, afterwards feeling giddy and restless.
Before that a stop in a second hand shop while the sifted – through – the-clouds sunlight darkened. While I was looking through a pretty meager collection of dated or stained (or both) clothes, another customer paid with a ten euro bill. It drifted on a freak draft when she let go of it, seemedly disappearing into thin air. A wild hunt for the bill followed. Elderly ladies crawled on the floor behind the counter, peering under shelves and commenting on the dust that had accumulated there. When I offered a guess at where it could be, I was ignored. I would have been wrong anyways. I gave up wanting to help. The woman who had dropped the money said in a strange to me German dialect that she had to leave, collected her change and vanished into the dimming daylight. I wondered if she had practiced that trick in front of the mirror at home. Of course, shortly afterward, the money was found in an improbable nook.
When I stepped onto the sidewalk, a few finer drops of rain made me think I would be fine braving the weather. Soon the rain was pouring, urged on by a wind that rendered umbrellas useless – it was a funny sight, the rain streaming down and all these people with their umbrellas, closed and carried while they squinted and leaned in against the storm.
It was good and invigorating to be in the cold rain. And after a while just plain cold. Other than that my walk to the doctor’s was uneventful.
Later, at the station, I saw a police car. I saw a group of people standing listlessly in front of the kiosk. The whole little city made the impression of not wanting to be here, not wanting to be what it is and drifting through existence rather than seizing it. I saw a policewoman take along a shabbily dressed man who gave himself up without the faintest sign of resistance, standing like a little lamb in the half light of street lamps, the dingy “Bahnhof” looking a bit tired. That was on my way back to Koblenz.
The rest of the evening went well. I felt strongly the contentment and coziness of being with my brothers, cooking Asian fried noodles together, having snacks while watching part one of the Annual Meeting. Talking to a friend of my brother’s and sadly noticing that any reference to pop culture floated by me unrecognized. Note to self: get back in touch.
The night came and I lay in bed, feeling a glow and the strange little fear that crept up on me when the wind rushed against the panes.
Abby's Thoughts 