Day: December 19, 2018

Haffner’s ring

On the night that has been haunting me for twenty years, I dreamed of him without really sleeping. Alfred Haffner. Anton’s father, of whom I knew only this one photograph, framed by cheesy painted china dolls and dried roses on his mother’s sideboard. Alfred Haffner’s head lay next to me on my pillow, […]

My teddy

He is plushy, old and very tattered. My Teddy Toldi. Probably a bad murderer. But nobody believes me. Nobody should know anyway. I just have to think about who else could theoretically be considered for Thorsten Hoffmann’s death. This causes me a headache. The police, the unnecessary emergency doctor (dead […]

My mountain

I’ve always hated my father. Maybe not since I can remember, but since I started asking questions. Questions like, “Why do not you go to work?” or “Why are you so angry when you come home in the evening?”. Again and again I got the same answer: “Some questions are […]