Hallelujah

She has cut through her demons to me (and the Lord).

The lesson

I stand by two old women, one of them a teacher, talking about life, near death and stuff and one of them (the bent one) says 'Oh, dear Mrs .... - it's health that is most important!'

How come, I look down on them, that after all the decades they haven't grasped the crucial lesson: the most important thing is existence and love, if they're not one and the same thing*.





*they are.

When surrounded, surrender

I am surrounded by God, so why don't I surrender?

(Especially that I've already been  infiltrated by a holy agent.)

Some sunny day

This sunny day I'm drinking yoghurt diluted with hot water* out of a mug I gave a friend of mine when saying  'good-bye' to her a few months earlier, and I feel happy that we did meet again. I also notice the inscription on it and experience one of those moments, no doubt unique to post-original-sin and pre-paradise/hell humans, in which tears want to mix with laughter and one doesn't know which should come on top, because of another peculiar insight into our species: first the mug reassures 'We'll meet again some sunny day' and then, on its bottom, it adds 'Bomber Command Memorial & Maintenance Appeal'.

Dresden, some time after February 13-15, 1945

(They certainly hope not to meet the Bomber Command again)

*an insignificant detail added to make the story not only gripping, which I bet it already is, but also more colourful.