Hi Wiggy,

Funny you should drop me a line just now. I was sitting under the palms, watching the fishing boats and the clouds piling on the horizon, thinking of when we were an item. A passing thought.

In that time we lived in a coldwater flat at 22A Altkönigstrasse, a quiet street in a medieval town in the Taunus mountains. There was nothing very charming about the flat, but our balcony looked out onto a wide pasture, a line of tall trees in the distance. And in the evenings we watched the hares approaching the last light, brown shadows on pogo sticks.

We hiked a wide path through the woods to an ancient castle and a gasthaus where we drank Binding Bier and ate venison with the jägermeister and his gute frau.

Well, just to let you know I remember when love and youth were cheap.

Always,

Bill






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Read WRH's story, "Piscina."

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