31
Der Zauberberg
The same driver took me into the mountains. The journey consumed a good hour and a half. There was a slight chill in the evening air, which grew crisper at altitude. I rolled down a window to take in the crisp Alpine air and the scents of the wildflowers that were blooming on the hillsides.
I admit I was tense, perhaps even fearful, sure I was guilty of crimes both known and unknown to me. I wondered what these Bilderbergers would be like. Would they all be in black SS uniforms? Or the hoods and robes of the Inquisition? Or would they simply be an affable collection of chubby bankers in Saville Row suits, all puffing away on their fat Maria Mancini cigars?
I'll know everything soon enough. What a relief it will be to set this paranoia aside, for whatever reality I can
