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Life is too short for boring stories

And you lay next to me and talked about the events of that decisive night. “I spent the next day alone. Mochridhe had retired to his room. He wanted to think. Maybe he was hoping that it might not be what I thought, but it was all fitting and consistent. But for him it meant …

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Lisa meanwhile had Mr. Dr. Decent taken with her into the garden, where everyone was talking animatedly, while the children played with Jimmy, the little chihuahua who seemed to enjoy the change. „What did I keep from my dog,“ thought Lucinda Beautiful, who watched the goings-on before turning to Lisa. The appearance of the new …

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There is so much to do. There is always a lot to do. Especially because the world is just as it is. It’s better to be together, surrounded by people who work for the same cause and bring their own ideas. One finds oneself, if one wants, works together, disassociates and rejoices, if things succeed. …

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When you lie next to me, in the tall grass, on a warm full moon night, we look up to the stars, hear the crickets chirping around us that still exist, because there is the tall grass and the bats fly overhead and we say nothing, because being with you is enough and knowing that …

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„Sabrina, who was one of my two sisters, had decided on her career as a businesswoman and found fulfillment in it. Sarah, my second sister, could only watch this bustle shaking her head, if she were even watching because she is the dreamer, the romantic, the imaginative. All she saw and perceived was immediacy. Everyone …

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The flames raged violently skyward. I had kindled a big fire, here by my lake, on that special night, and they had come to celebrate together, all the special women. They did not ride on brooms, and there were no black ravens or black cats on their shoulders. But the animals had joined us, lying …

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Mary was completely engrossed in her actions, so completely that she saw nothing and no one around her. She sewed a dress. In the first step she had designed it, then made a pattern, tailored the fabric and was now to sew it. To be familiar, to get involved in this, seemingly simple activity. The …

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It was a wet, cold day, this thirteenth of Advent, one of those on which one prefers to pull the covers over one’s ears and embrace oneself. Hedgehoging – like the hedgehog in his winter home. Even the little ones seemed influenced by the weather, a little bit quieter. It was so dark and murky. …

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It happens, with all inevitability, which have such occurrences. And it happens again and again, even if I would have to know better. But it is also not easy to recognize. Again and again it dresses itself in another garment. If it were not so sad, I might consider it interesting. But it is sad, …

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