Friday, August 1

It was mid-morning and some children were already setting off their cheap fireworks. There were bangs all over the village, accompanied by the barking of frightened dogs. Lukas went to Konrad's house and rang the doorbell. After a while, Konrad opened the door for him.He looked at Lukas' tense face and shook his head.

Still nothing, thought Lukas. He followed Konrad into the living room.

"Have a seat. I can only tell you the same thing over and over again: be patient."

"I'm going crazy. It's already been eleven days. Eleven!"

"Would you like some water? Or the usual?"

"The usual would be good."

Konrad went into the kitchen. Lukas looked around the living room, which he had known since he was a child. He used to go in and out of here, including to the study. Its door was always open. Not today. Konrad came back and gave him a glass of apple juice.

"Thank you very much."

"You urgently need to change your mind. Classes start again in ten days and then you won't be able to catch your breath until your A levels. A grade six in German is within reach, but I can't influence what the expert from the university says. All I know is that these people don't want literature, they want a presentation of the topic, arguments, conclusions and so on. Please remember that and stop with your literary essays. They're great, no question, but that will have to wait now."

"I know. I'll make an effort. There's so much going through my head. We deliberately didn't want to go on a strenuous vacation, just a few weeks in France with the motorhome. Culture, good food, that sort of thing. And then my mother suddenly wanted to go to this crazy place."

"You still don't know why, do you? I'm still puzzling over it too.But it certainly wasn't as described by the unfortunate Christoph Spreeling."

"That was complete nonsense. No, I don't know. She had her moods, and when she wanted something, there was no debating it. There was always something nebulous about the woman. By saving her writings, I wanted to bring light into the darkness.And now they're somewhere in a French distribution center or long lost. Perhaps that would be for the best. She wrote them as if in a fever, and that will undoubtedly show."

"I'm sure she produced some real gems in the process. She was always good at improvising and her feel for languag