Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Almost Everything Very Fast

the village again. The very next morning she set out again. She followed her own footprints. The night had frozen them into the snow. When she reached the Moorsee, Anni sat down at the end of the pier, letting her legs dangle, and waited. She kept her eyes on the hole in the far shore where the animal had appeared. Before long something stirred in the underbrush, and Anni hid herself beneath the pier—but it was only a deer that drank a bit out of the hole in the ice before vanishing back into the woods. Anni sighed. The sun was shiningonher leftcheek, it shone on her woolen cap, and then, for a little while, since she’d gotten a bit too warm, it shone on her bare hair, and finally it shone on

her right cheek. Nothing moved. She’d long since devoured the little lunch that she’d brought along with her. She sucked on an icicle she’d broken off the pier. When the sun turned a pale lilac, she trudged off with slumped shoulders. Just before reaching the turn in the path, she spun back to the Moorsee and shouted, “You stupid muckhole!” Under the somebodies’ roof, such expressions were forbidden. Even though Master Baker Reindl thought itwas the perfect description for Segendorf. The pine trees on the opposite shore answered, Ole-ole-ole! At that very moment, the animal emerged from its hole and turned to look at her. Anni fell to her belly and peeped over the snowbanks:

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