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Adi juggled two full paper bags. Another thing to get used to over here. When she was a child, German grocery stores had charged for plastic bags, but recently, they’d switched to paper bags only. Not a problem, unless you had to open the door with a key, and setting down your vegetables in suspicious puddles wasn’t an option.
Adi shuddered, remembering the two drunks underneath her window only this morning. God knew what was in that liquid, pooling on the black asphalt. A floating layer of grease, mixed with the faint odor of vomit, made her stomach heave a little.
Finally her fingers brushed against the small key ring in her pants pocket. The two bags were beginning to cut off circulation to her fingers. Once inside, Adi sighed with relief.
Two hours of droning, monotonous German
