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Life is too short for boring stories

The bus driver calls me the price. I start to search my pockets. Behind me there is a clear murmur of the ones who want to enter to be heard, as a hand stretched from back to front and we strum a few coins.
„I’ll pay for the young man,“ says one, obviously on hand, voice. I turn around. An elderly lady in an elegant costume smiles at me sympathetically.

„Why are you doing this?“ I ask her, after overcoming my confusion.
„Because you,“ she replies politely, but with an unmistakable mocking look on my face, „obviously have no money, and I do not care about the few euros.“, And with that she delicately meanders past me to to sit in one of the back rows.


„How do you feel about that?“ I murmur as I look down at me. I almost want to feel sorry for myself at this sight. The way I was, in my suit, slippers, and the unmistakable chocolate bar trail that my daughter left to me, I had run out of the house. I really had to make a deplorable impression. But I have no time to think about it, because the bus is already starting. Where does he go? He’s going to go somewhere, and where I feel like I’m going to get out there, I’ll get on with my approach. Exhausted, I let myself sink into a seat. I’m in the middle of it now, as the question of all questions shoots through my head and makes me start: What is a Knurx? The question of all questions, and he triggers the whole disaster. The bus goes and I look out the window. What a peculiar feeling not to concentrate on the traffic, but just to be able to look at the area aimlessly. Somehow it feels like I’m really seeing my hometown for the first time in a very, very long time. From afar, the memory of the time dawns on me as I walk, just so through the streets, aimlessly. How long ago is that?

I probably could not wait for the bus to stop at the professor’s doorstep, but now the area is getting more and more unknown and the feeling in the stomach is getting more and more tense. I decide to get off at the next stop. Farther and farther away, the bus seems to be leading me from my destination. I get out and try to get my bearings. If I suspect it correctly, I’ll have to walk at least one, if not two, hours to the professor’s house. Or should I just turn around and leave it? No, do not resign just before the finish. Where does my safety come from because the professor knows the answer to my question? He just has to know! I cling to that thought like the drowning man on your straw. I’m going. Besides, walking is healthy. However, when I arrive at the professor’s house three hours later, I wonder, gasping for breath, what on foot can be so healthy. I pity myself and my battered body.

I press the bell. And what if nobody is home now? The seconds stretch to eternity. Finally, a noise! The door is opened, but I see no one. Instinctively, I look down. There is a little girl in the door who looks at me treacherously, as treacherous as my daughter whispered the Knurx to me in the morning and then just let me sit. I mobilize my last powers, and ask politely, „Is your daddy home?“
„I can only tell you that, if you tell me who you are!“, She snaps me off.

„I am an acquaintance of your father,“ I say, „and I am in a matter of truly existential importance,“ I add desperately.
„What does existential mean?“ Asks the little girl, without even the slightest disturbance. Such a stupid question, which means existential. I know that everyone, what is existential, but how do I explain it to her. At home is the laptop, and there is Wikipedia inside. I have a terrific idea: „If you show me where your lexicon is, then I’ll tell you exactly.“, I suggest her.
„Do you not know it yourself?“, She asks relentlessly, and cannot refrain from adding: „My daddy always says you should not use words that you do not know what they mean.“ This old wisdom starts to anger me but I have to stay calm, because this little brat stands between me and my goal. A funny situation. It’s usually the other way around with my daughter, she wants something from me. Secretly I decide to listen to my daughter more often now at least.

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