Wednesday, 16 December 2015

A Christmas Wish

On a Sunday it is pleasant to wander the Flohmarkt, especially now the Christmas lights are out.  I picked up a faded daguerrotype.  It was of the old Meyerplatz, from before the War.  A bright spring morning, draymen loading their horse-drawn carts, and in the middle, a young man striding assuredly across the square, a bundle under his arm.

“What do you wish, sir?” asked the stallholder.

The carts rattled and jingled; one of the new trams slowly drew into the square.  And in the fresh spring air, I strode briskly on to my bachelor lodgings, with bread fresh from the baker’s.

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