Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
I stand on deck, dressed against temperatures still well below zero, watching a sea of olive, sage and blue metal. On the cobalt horizon, container ships like floating cities fall over the edge of the world.
The calm waters ripple where a gull snatches at the surface, its throat bobbing as it flaps and rises. Low cloud hangs in veils of grey and blue but over the headland it thins, sunlight painting pale fingers over mountains that fade through grey shrouds before vanishing into opaque horizons.
What does it take?
What do I offer her?
Not money…
What does she want?
?
Freedom…
…
What does that even mean?
…
…
All those books…
She wants to travel…
…
…
What would I do?
…
I’ve seen plenty…
Maybe I could make my living as a journalist?
Always
