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Life is too short for boring stories

„Come to dinner,“ Constantia and Cordula Kral, Konrad’s sisters, who always performed in pairs, interrupted the narration he had started at that moment. The twin sisters had both become nurses and entered tertiary orders, which meant they lived in the middle of the world like nuns, with all that that entailed, like vows and love …

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„Oh, Konradilein, I’m sure you like looking at the children while we adults still have things to do here,“ said Vanessa Lieblich to her youngest brother, as insinuatingly as it was possible and necessary for her. He sat deep in the soft sofa and looked lost in thought at the empty seat next to him.„She …

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The plaster has long since crumbled off, the shine has disappeared from our eyes, the anticipation that we so fondly remember from distant childhood days. What is left is the scent of cloves and cinnamon, which we still fantasize about. What remains is a celebration without reference, a must without commitment, an occasion without enrichment. …

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… to walk through the forest, with you to breathe in the fresh, clear winter air and let this very special atmosphere work. It is nothing more than a cluster of trees. Nothing happens there. That’s boring. It is so terribly unhectic and unspectacular. But for those who can breathe and smell and feel it, …

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Because the feast of love is only real, if it is free of suffering.

When I awoke that morning, the morning of Christmas, I had a severe headache. It was as if I had run against a jamb, so much did it hurt a spot on the forehead. As I fingered it, I also noticed a rather imposing bump that resembled a horn in the middle of my forehead. …

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I had wandered all morning, but this time I enjoyed neither the landscape nor the sunshine. It was more like an escape, but I was always in a circle. Restless, almost driven, I felt. As if all the courage and confidence I had just had left me forever. Not even the stormy greeting of the …

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When I woke up this morning from quite calm dreams, which I still had in spite of everything, this did not happen quite voluntarily. There had been a sound in those dreams cheated, which I diagnosed immediately and razor-sharp as one that had nothing to do with my dream. Consequently, I concluded that it had …

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„You’ve made a great meal, Mary!“ I said, still tasting the enjoyment as I stood in the kitchen doing the dishes with Jesus. „Yes, really,“ Jesus affirmed, adding with a wink, „Have you ever noticed that there is always too little cooking of goodies?“ „Sure, you’ve dusted most of the good food,“ Mary remarked amused, …

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I got up in the morning. No matter where I was and with whom, in the morning I got up, brushed my teeth, made me coffee. Sometimes breakfast, if I was not alone. Not for me. Breakfast is not my meal. That passes me by. Coffee is enough. It’s not my time, it’s the morning. …

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