by the same author:
The guitar and the drum were in action now, and there was that interesting male again, but –with a woman in his arms who showed the silly expression of someone newly in love. „Well, that´s that", Lisa summed up the situation, „it is a pity, though". Looks as though they are CELEBRATING something."
While the singing and laughing kept getting louder , Lisa took a writing pad from her handbag and withdrew into her corner by the window. She knew she had to sort out her thinking, and that writing would be the best way. „Dear Peter," she began, „you would never guess what I found out about this person Brian O´Donnell, or should I say, that trademark Brian O´Donnell …." She filled one page after the other, only looking up when there were irritating noises from her fellow passengers. Were they fighting now? That was definitely not sounding friendly. And who kept imitating a dog?
Nervously she drew her coat
closer around her body, slipped the letter into its pocket, and pressed
herself into her corner. Better not show attention, better avoid eye-contact
, she told herself as she used to tell the young girls in her self-defense-classes
back in Hamburg. She almost jumped when something brushed against her
LEGS and then settled noisily behind them, panting and shaking with fear.
„Good dog", she told him, reaching down to pat him gently on the
shaggy head," no reason to worry. Just a bunch of drunken rascals . Nothing
we cannot handle, the two of us."
Who is comforting who, she wondered, but the encounter with her new companion
had somehow raised her spirits immensely, and with renewed interest she
kept looking out of the window, at fields and villages passing by,
at stations, where no packs of cigarettes were unloaded ( hommage á Heinrich
Böll), various shades of green, various sounds all melting
into the monotony of the train´s steady progress toward the West coast.
People singing, people yelling, the dog snoring softly…
One lazy glance to make sure the –RED HANDBAG was there on the seat
next to her – the bag with its reassuring contents,
and Lisa fell asleep.
The sudden lack of movement and noises woke her with a start. There they were already leaving the train: the lovers, the guy with the guitar… Where was the dog? Well, he would see for himself. She reached up the pull down her suitcase, and hurried out onto the platform. Was this already Achill Island? „Wait!" she yelled, as she stumbled after the others, „wait for me …"
It was only when she had
joined them, that she realized that her HANDBAG was gone.
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