My last post is too long ...
I have to create a new entry * drop * Okay, here we go, guys.
Someone has died.
Or someone had a bad accident.
This is pretty much the only thought that around four in the morning clock is present in Klaas' head as he pulls his ringing cell phone out of sleep. He reacts so quickly that he looks not at the display, but only receives the call. Prepared for the worst, while the documented horrors of his voice scratchy.
"Yes? Klaas here. "
" Klaas honestly ... "No one is dead, but Joko turn sounds as if he were near. By be the line surges heavy breathing, reminiscent of a gelatinous film of oil is slower and faster than it should be, and would like to Klaas' infect own breathing rhythm.
"Dude, what time it is ..?"
The question and a condition related to her murmurs are simply ignored.
"... I'll hang since determined two hours above the toilet."
"Oh."
" Oh! "
Yes, oh. So completely is his own brain, the situation would still not be classified. It only begins to understand that it is in the middle of the night that nobody died and that it Joko obviously is miserable.
Not that you yourself feel top notch, but Klaas can not claim now, he would still particularly bad from all the smoking. Instead, he turns on his back and looks at the ceiling, actually, he looks so only in the darkness. Is more the night is not applicable.
His consciousness, however, hovers over the healthy limit of twilight in the waking state. It's raining and he can hear the drops pelt down quietly against his window. A small army of drummers in childhood.
"It's great that at least you're doing well," one must listen now, as one does not always respond. lies between the controlled breaths a pinched pain stimulus that Joko can not keep to themselves.
Klaas would blame him for it.
"I've slept ... Just lie down and go back. "
" I can not '. I throw up constantly. "
" TMI. "
" Oh, go, fuck away from me with your Internet vocabulary. TMI, pff ... "This is really unpleasant for Klaas in this situation that suggests Joko's choice of words but to a certain irritation, but his voice does not just play along. It does not sound like, I like many here by the non-existent telephone cord and'll give TMI ', but how, I know not know how I've managed to get my phone, but somehow I managed it, and you're the only person I would call straight '.
The Klaas turns the stomach to - albeit slowly. And with the stomach at the same time the soul. The world goes on a slope, as now enters a disconcerting crackling in his ear, the sound is dull, hollow. And he understands that Joko has put his phone on the floor. Because he needs to throw up and choke until it dies away in a weakened cough. Another round of many. This information will adhere to the sound.
Klaas would not admit it - and is glad that Joko not see it - but he keeps his cell phone from discreet his ear off. Him it is enough to have to participate from an acoustic perspective shadowy here it. There are things that he does not need. Problems are simply this. Joko and that is just problematic. Straight. Constantly. Then do not. And then again ...
The toilet flush is operated while Klaas' thoughts go through his room and want to encourage him that he can not help it. They are both adults. They can both decide what to do and what they do not. And if they engage in rivalry to determine who is in what the far-fetched the better discipline, they have the consequences . Who
him has indeed been warned not what would do working with Joko and his emotional life. Why then should he now show compassion?
The mobile phone is resumed.
"Excuse me, did not mess Klaas differently ...", the words leached against miserably. Come up to him as a crying, to comfort-seeking child with too much spit on the nose. It may be that child, but it would not take the mickey, you wear a new shirt and can not move before the next editorial meeting.
"Yes, delicious ...", one encounters Joko's approach and thus pulls on the belt to at least not excessively to sound sarcastic. This does not mean that the undertone is no longer required.
Joko clears his throat, and sniffs at the same time. The acrid taste in his mouth is far from something that would also imagine Klaas only approximate.
"My stomach is really for hours on 'Ner empty. Everything here comes now is, "
" Come, is 'good. "TMI for Klaas' sense. TMI! "I know what it's like mit'm sick. Keywords emetic. You remember for sure. "
" No comparison. "
Oh ... While
Klaas bites her lip, He has Joko respiratory rhythm back again. Nothing sounds like it well enough to take it over. The noise is from his ear drum smuggled into his brain and then sorted out directly. Land on a rubbish dump on the events, knowledge, emotions and actions that would have nothing to do Klaas store, such as nuclear waste. It does not disintegrate, at least not fast enough. But we have hope that this stuff no more harm havoc when a fixed lid screwed on it and about it poured a concrete layer of the determination.
"Hey, it's the same quarter past four," they say with an intention to Joko not miss. Time enough to look at the clock, had been so, has broken as Joko.
"... Sorry, I'm just nauseated."
"What shall I do now as against? ? Come over, stroking your back and witch-up healthy, "You would not think of nauseated, one only hopes that the little joke Joko distracts a little bit and set the matter to an end.
That does not, and Klaas freezes laid the half-hearted grin on his face when he realizes to be silent. For too long, as that he might miss the importance of silence.
"getting past would 'super ..." back stroke would be great. Would affect super. Together would be great.
Joko's words are sometimes, or even mostly, just like his actions: they embrace Klaas and pull him close to these strange-familiar body without having it or not. It happens and a decision over his head. Deletes the conflict from his chest out and does it well, long at least for a few short seconds. The touch itself is worth gold. So thoroughly correct.
properly.
wrong Sun
This finding puts everything back in the wrong light and ensures that incident Klaas why they're best friends, are nothing. Colleagues. Are something that he does not yet want und hasst und mag und nicht unbeschwert sein kann.
Klaas fallen die Augen zu; er will sich nicht ins Auto setzen und zu diesem Menschen fahren, den er in diese Misere gebracht hat. Ja, er weiß, er war es, aber dann wiederum, nein, es waren sie beide. Er lässt sich diesen Schuh nicht anziehen. Joko ist für sich selbst verantwortlich! Da lässt man sich hier keinen Strick draus drehen; unabhängig vom Tadel des Gewissens, welches anmerkt, dass Klaas so unbedingt den Titel zurück wollte. Scheiße, war er gekränkt. Er ist ein extrem schlechter Verlierer. Wie sollte er unter diesen Voraussetzungen ein Aushalten erschaffen, dessen Sieg ihm nicht sicher war?
Joko hätte sich einfach nicht drauf should get involved if he does not tolerate the crap. So if anyone is to blame, then Joko itself.
"That does nothing, I mean" what is meant for again? No matter. "Attempt to lay up and I get up tomorrow morning. Okay?
compromise.
Klaas finds the fine. The silence is brought against him in the 9th Month with an overwhelming disappointment pregnant. Joko but says nothing, until eventually a consenting sound comes from him. The delay and the reasons for its further forward Klaas mental landfill. He can not blame. He will not watch as Joko sweaty and pale next to or dependent on the loo and wants to know him with shining eyes at his side.
It's not his fault.
Whose fault is it not?
.
.
.
Klaas sleeping offense, because when he finally does. Half an hour after the phone call, and several hours before a confrontation with the evil disappointment. It is infinitely easier than it receives after getting a text message from Joko.
not need me to pick up am until noon in the office, have already clarified everything. See you later.
There is a smiley. The one Joko is keen to get into his text message to Klaas is, without the possibility that Klaas remember ever having to typed himself. -*
There is no TMI: There is no. Only the certainty that everything will be okay and they will as always get along together, when they meet at noon today and Joko looks like someone who does not find it particularly funny when you tell others that he threw up half the night and after Klaas has longed for.
There's too much TMI, as it would ever lose its radioactivity. The half-life exceeds Klaas' life expectancy by miles and destroyed by the way he was. In fact, not only his soul but also by someone else, but to know this is TMI for him.
crackers concert.
The rain bursts as loud as you have not seen for long. The tear drops in their impact on the road, the cars apart with laughter at the houses and people, as if it were corn, which is dispersed to popcorn. Pushing the cold water seeks its way through Klaas' hair on his face along his body. The clothing than just stop looking at. He is soaking wet when he sprinted from his car to the front door. In one hand and a shopping bag in the other the front door key.
before the right foot, hurrying ahead of him in the hall, a dripping wet something that he sees until he the door of the living corridor closed and water is wiped with the left sleeve of his face.
Between them lies the crackling hum of the hallway light, like an old, musty carpet and the bag rustle so here, when Klaas' fingers unconsciously something solid wedged in the plastic; register his eyes but not his mind responding.
On the other side seems to take place the same reaction, which consists of a simple observation - or Marvel? - Exists. In the back of curious rain drumming against the door and tried as a child turned up by a non-existent windows in the hallway to squint. Always hoping, on the toes still something of the strange Scene to catch.
"Where are you from?", A slip of the tongue, finally, the surprise, approaching slowly towards the elusive creature that looks like a craggy still stuffed animal. Among the four little paws has formed a puddle, rain water. Harmless. Klaas feels like water in a path searched by his hair tips in his neck and seeps into the collar of his gray shirt.
The large, green eyes, he left to answer.
as if the cat may have fallen from the sky, feels one's view from the hallway. The ceiling, the walls, the staircase, the elevator, even the mail box front. Then finally the door.
yourself half turning round, place the free hand on the latch and opens the door wide a gap. However, instead of looking into the distance, draws the puss only piqued curly mustache and asks him if he still has all.
he has, yes.
he think, at least, as he approaches the four-legged friends soon after it carefully and put on his kitchen counter. The animal did not move great, but is waiting like a compressed ball of fur and water. Trembling.
Where the cat is coming from, Klaas just care less. Of the neighbors heard anything since he is relatively safe. A brindle tricolor he would remember. Tigers run here some, and then there's this thick black and white cat that sometimes stalks the bottom of the garden and the little black kitten from over the port. But else .. no, there is no three-colored.
He probably picked up a stray who does not know quite how it happens.
"We have something in common," murmured Klaas ignored his sodden hair and grabs the towel hanging in the kitchen. The shopping bag rests unnoticed by his feet as he tried to dry the cat at least a little.
something that sounds like a crooked Mauzer, then cuts through the atmosphere in the kitchen. Quick look as Klaas , can the cat has passed out of their apathy, is under the towel herausgeschlingert and dashes at the speed of a sports car through its cuisine. Their way only by water droplets and dirty paw prints making comprehensible.
Somewhere rattling something that pushes air out of plastic amazed, shocked material groans on.
"No. .. wait, no!"
Too late. Flat as a pancake, the animal disappears under the sofa and can understand, first, that it was perhaps not the wisest of ideas, take the cat just so into the apartment. Is not after all so as not to Klaas knew the peculiarities of this species ...
He tried coaxing and a Lockgeräusch. But even as he knelt to give him the green eyes remain skeptical. As it is freestanding sofa is only a black chunk of visitors, shimmering in the two emeralds.
"Shit," Klaas assess the situation when the cat makes no attempt to address all his powers of persuasion. This one has even lured with the prospect of ham, cheese or milk. Tuna will now not necessarily in Klaas' kitchen. But a lot of dirt that was not there before and does it again "shit" grumbling, as he the dirt on the white areas sees. Back on his feet, he feels like a guide standing in the room who has no idea where to go long. From her sofa is heard absolutely nothing. Only the kitchen and the ground provide information on just what happened. Next to the window the rain pushes the flat nose and painted the walls in gray.
decide to move only at himself, aiming it to the bathroom. Perhaps sums up the cat some courage when you come back the same.
It's Saturday afternoon here today, as Klaas freshly showered again comes into the living room. The cat, for tactical reasons, a small plate is pre sofa, hoping the smell of the food brings out her while he wiped off the kitchen. Actually, he always cleans with background music, the TV blaring at least may not - probably the chances that his guests feel comfortable, higher in a quiet area but much more. The
is not so.
Also at 19:00 clock has not yet shown paw and slowly Klaas is the fear of not going on, the animal may soon piss on his couch. Somehow he does not remember that the cat's parents had ever withdrawn Sun On the other hand, he knew the room from a young tiger, too.
not to watch TV, no radio and no roommate is unusually quiet. The house might as well be part of a backdrop that can only passes. Without a warm spotlight. Nothing works here, and no one is here - except Klaas himself. A statement that it has been pursuing for some time over again, he occasionally taps on the shoulder and a nasty grins, if you look for really forcing her to turn to ...
He has never lived alone. And if Klaas is honest, he finds it anything but pleasant. Not because he could not support themselves. Just because he is used to always talk to someone. Whether at work or home, is usually always someone near him. And if not, then he pushes his desire to communicate on the Internet.
Klaas
The rain greeted as an old acquaintance, as he soon afterwards ventured to the door, the car runs and starts a cat Noteinkauf.
*
The good that the little plate is empty, when he comes home. And he is pretty sure he heard the cat to flee when he opened the door. The visual check under the sofa are Klaas Law:
The cat sits in a different place, but it still regarded with reservations. As if he is the only shocking thing here. Not the empty apartment or the loud rain or evening, or be returned to the big city itself.
Something in the subtle green flash hostile, "Let me alone!" and says it is not the same Sun
Klaas has it all and been very different. Starting with the fact that he really did not have time to keep a pet. As a professional, he can never guarantee when he is home and when not. The upcoming weekend is harmless, he will be here. He has to wait until Monday afternoon to work again, but not very long. Anyway. The next week may already be quite different, even if his diary so far no evidence to the effect at hand holds. The television world is fast moving, this is a good plan rejected in no time. Sometimes he hates, even abysmal. He knows them in advance what will happen. What does not mean that he does not like surprises, but well ...
refined, how times is now, to set the cat a new dish in front of the couch. The food smells not necessarily good, but it is supposed to fulfill its purpose only. Klaas, however, perched on the couch, half supported on the arm and not letting the dish out of sight.
that he says something permanent, it is hardly conscious. But if the cat is so restrained as it were ... One of them must do so to start with. Perhaps the beauty down there may not even reveal where they came from, but Klaas is relatively sure that it has so far never heard of Oldenburg. Ie: the cat gets an introduction to his personal opinion on the said city. Then in the rest of his life.
penetrates even occasionally produce a noise under the bed. As the rust-colored nose finally ventured out under the sofa, it has long been dark outside. Contrary to Klaas' habits, the television is turned off that evening. Even his iPhone is relatively unnoticed by him, as he is now fascinated watching stops and unnoticed by itself stops the air.
The long white mustache hairs approach the cup. For the first time you see the cat with dry skin, as appraising glances around the room, locked the cat food. Your eyes look the strange surroundings and then shoot up, directly to Klaas, who would not budge. Clever
packed snapping the cat wet food and a big chunk is gone in an instant under the sofa. advanced
"Oah, nee ..." The end, press Klaas face in the sofa. Knowing that tomorrow he should continue his cleaning tour before any uneaten food to develop his land a life of its own ...
"Why are you doing this?"
In response merely a greedy smacking is ejected. The cat may not be a dog.
A few times she even repeated the action with the food, then makes himself scarce. Klaas is not tired of it, became to bring the world closer to his kittens. The fact tomorrow to clean out as planned, he has long since become friends anyway.
All he gets in his call as a little, only that he gets no response. Neither positive nor negative. He just knows there is someone who listens to him while he surfs the Internet in the evening. From a youtube video to the next by proposing and tells the cat what he sees. What he reads on twitter and why the house seems so big. So much empty for a person like him.
*
The cat's sake it has moved with his bedding on the couch. The rain is humming and crackling lullabies is irrelevant. Eventually flicker Klaas' Lider, bring him back as fine scratching noises from the sleep into reality. Around him, it is black, is dug in the little box filled with litter. A few moments later the cat prowling around the room and stops trying still. Listening.
wondering what to think of the little visitors may well.
walk through the steps of the room, she jumps on the dresser, on the table, then soon back on the floor. Whether the cat is hungry? Klaas its assessment of whether it is wise to get up and you have to give something to eat. But they would flee anyway just back under the couch ...
He dozed off on the idea; happy about was the night in a long time to be awakened to life. In this apartment - not in the street or neighboring homes.
comes with the morning light. Forces its way through the edges of the blind and strokes over a face, so that the nose Klaas garter pulls. His body may not get up, not yet. Would turn round, only a bit, just a few minutes. It's Sunday, and too early for his means.
But something blocked it. Is there equal to its feet like a stone and makes it difficult to involve the whole body in the turning process.
Drowsy dissolved the puzzle by opening the eyes and on the rolled-puss looks, as the slumbering below, as if it had never been different. However that Klaas' waking up is not entirely escaped. From the corner of his eye fixes a cat, warningly. Observant.
appears much larger than they had in remembrance Klaas. No more kittens, but still quite a young animal, he estimated.
He must smile as he wished her good morning and it suddenly does not find all too soon.
have breakfast together: the cat and he, having indeed distant, but not as fearful as the day before. Perhaps it has all the tales can go through your mind, and realizes that she now knows more about Klaas than most people on this planet. If he is not nice to her, she will betray intimate details about him. On the web. On his twitter account, in which she secretly logs in with his iPhone. Sun
Or something like that, there is the Klaas provide at least. But he already has no reason to treat the poor cat. They like him as she sits there so majestic and sniffs interested, however, he was still in T-shirt and shorts sitting at the breakfast table. feed yourself with a variety of surfaces can be bread and before one can know it, jumped on a chair. Naturally occupies the place as if the only chair and had been purchased solely for them.
His guest is a girl. Klaas has been lurking, it's to yes. Actually, he has always lived together with guys, but good, at some point so everyone will grow up and Madame seems to be still not perfect. His happiness. Then it fits even with them.
even pet it can be. The yesterday's wet fur has turned to his own delight in a soft cloth. The quick wash is done automatically, just before the balcony door in the morning light, outside it stopped raining, sometime towards the end of the night.
Only the cleaning remains as before hanging on Klaas.
The morning ekes out the cat on the balcony, then stroll back into the apartment where Klaas has been sitting alibi moderate front of the TV and actually wanted to keep it in mind.
own, but when it is time now, it is now abundantly care. She gives him not a spark of attention when she abzwackelt toward voices, they had been called. A little puzzled, turn the head and looks at her while to sniff along the closed doors to other rooms. Kitchen and living room are not enough for her.
It may in Klaas' bedroom and can not ask twice, has little that you opened the door. Nimble paws on it runs out on his sofa over, sniffs once - just by format - and then buttoned up against the rest of his body. Klaas do not really understand what they have except it, but he sits and waits as she inspected his stuff and he somehow feels that she can turn to every second of it and ask him why exactly this book or this band or this DVD?
She says nothing. She questions anything. She likes everything the way it is. Even the doors of the old building and unwashed clothes in a laundry basket in the bathroom.
with a clean pair of folded socks simulate it a fang Release victims. As if struck by lightning, the cat is sharpening her pseudo prey through the rooms. Pokes and scratches and bites, tatscht and throws the socks in the air, jump behind and plucks. Does it rest, sneaks up and wagging his bottom, as they prey again to the starting point and then throw another round of "Die Hard" heralds.
After the unfortunate socks estimated ten times the procedure must have endured, and Klaas doubt they ever be able to pick up again, the cat drags the socks in his mouth to him. Woken grumbling, mauzend, and full of expectation.
you will have them. Ham from the services they propose, Klaas gives her cheese, dry food and gives it finally gives up. She eats everything, the room that he hardly has left for a brief moment.
He was never so much online as on this day. At least not when he was home and had nothing to do. The apartment is not only through television as noise or music features acoustic. Life you crawl through the rooms and drips from the ceiling, back to the residents.
Even when the evening is one in your own bed, you get a lady visitor.
*
As Klaas event on Monday afternoon to go to work, he strokes the cat thoroughly to see again. Where does he want, why he should work for sure, she wants to know.
Someone has to pay so their food and rent and everything.
you can not see the really, but attaches itself to almost Klaas' leg as this is out of the house and pushing is not glad to have to leave them. But take a cat to the office because you will cough it was ...
Nevertheless, it shines like a light bulb over the moon when he arrives in the company, the people at the reception at all and welcomes anyone who crosses his path, greeted effusively.
"nuclear reactor explodes or what you shine so?", Speculates Joko, as we settle down to him across the desk.
Laughing Klaas shakes his head.
"Better!" Tickles the word his mouth and lit Klaas' mind with thirst, while Joko looks as if he had preferred the weekend non-stop party of beauty sleep.
"Better? Time had sex again? "Ehrlich interested Joko sips his coffee and responds to Klaas' negative one shake of the head with a" Had me wondering.
"What soll'n that mean?" "Now to tell."
short pondering and oppressive an eye-rolls, Klaas first starts his computer.
"Have now a cat."
"Ne cat?"
"Yes, such a small creature on four legs,"
"Klaas, I know what a cat!"
"Do not make me feel sorry."
This time it's Joko of the eye rolling verkneift before he drains his coffee.
"Let not the Mona hear. Do you remember mitgekriegt on Saturday? "
Foreboding lies down with the thoroughly serious-sounding words about Klaas' mind.
"No, what?" Mona is one of the editors here on the floor. Lieb, mid-30s, a small child. Everyone loves Mona, which is actually called Monika. It helps if they can. And they Klaas has not squealed when she mitgekriegt that he has the empty milk carton back in the fridge once made is (really only in exceptional cases!) and Kathy broke an ape revolt that when she had to drink their coffee black. Who would have used last milk? Or who might have seen someone who was possibly the last ...
Mona had kept tight and Klaas one of those "Do not do that again easily. As you see you least dangerous to the security of us all! "View sent. Kathy is an incredible Cholerikerin, with the port nobody likes ...
"Well, they had the morning brought her cat to the vet to be vaccinated because should. Then she picked up the cat in the afternoon and somehow the basket did not feel right, or broken. In any event, Mona was just passed here, because she had forgotten something. And when she gets out, twisting her cat out of the box. Outside's has been raining like hell yes, Mona has searched the entire car park, but no longer found her cat. Actually, you'd still have to learn in the. I think you have gone about the time ... "
It is a not quite clear how that can happen, but the uneasy feeling has formed into a loop that has wrapped itself around his own neck. sitting there silent, swallow Klaas.
Monas Cat and this cat that he is now sitting at home ... No, it can be just an unfortunate accident!
"things exist!" Klaas said sounds harsh because he simply will not and can not believe. But the stupid cat would have to slip into his car and also have to get back with him!
The room is silent suspect.
"What's for out of your new cat, Klaas" Something in Joko's voice turns to a loss regardless of the stomach.
The blunt fingers on the keyboard are leaving, you pressed down the feet on the ground and stares at the table. He and his cat, but they live together now. And she never said a single word of it, that they heard someone else!
But it is well maintained.
And she is accustomed to people when they have once found a way around environment. And she knows the litter box ...
"... I do not believe this." Joko sound ever so sharp and insistent? You can feel really, as he bluntly staring at one.
jerks elevates the field of view is suddenly very red in the face, although it is not a criminal and yet is treated like one!
"Hey, what do you think of me? The cat was sitting in my front door! "
" Is it colorful? "
"Yes, so what?"
"Mona's cat. The cat is climbing ever with their neighbors in the car and you are driven to the nearest Aldi, Mona tells us. We have checked all our cars. Here on Saturday the hell was going on! "
" How would I know this because to do? "No longer accuse leaving, one round so abruptly from his chair with that loud creaks and slides against the wall. Joko will not pretend as if you were a kid or Catnapper!
"Hey!" One hears Joko herbrüllen behind them when they just decided to trudge out of the office and do not know where to point should. Because the elevator is here right now, forces itself into Klaas. But unfortunately underestimated how close he was Joko on their heels. Is.
The doors are then travel to the top. In Klaas' head turn over the information as a wild bunch of acrobats on speed.
It hurts.
"I'm the cat is not stolen or something," he glows Joko to correct centering, who raises his hands as he knew this
"You have to have a return anyway."
What it says ...
"Perhaps it is after all just a coincidence," We talk more on agriculture than with Joko, who suddenly so hard Klaas feels like sighs and down next to a leaning against the wall. Dense enough so that you can feel his body on their own.
you both know that it is no accident.
Klaas is that with each breath that makes his colleague, clearly.
"I did not know that you're so absolutely want to have a cat ..."
"I Will not really so. It's just ... "The fact that the house is strangely quiet and empty when she enters and resides in it. But now not even Klaas mumbles, but prefers to view his last days of rainy weather the dirty sneakers. He do not care what Joko think of anyway is almost never home. The much more on the road. Of the whole thing probably can not even comprehend.
"Strangely, now that you live alone?"
It does not require consent. Joko knows he has hit the bull's. And that this is his testimony is certain, Klaas noted again the fact that he puts an arm around her shoulders. Apparently he was still listening when he mentioned how his domestic situation has developed.
"What we must do what a ...", it sounds so quietly from the side and is held in Klaas for an encouraging phrase. He does not even know himself, how he finds the bad thoughts suddenly come back into the apartment and no one more to be found. The cat has beguiled him completely within a very short time and wrapped around all the nails.
"I mean" clears his throat, the now mature, extremely complicated even, "I want anyway long look what else ..." The statement raises
Klaas' frowned and shoved him into a deep hole, filled with confusion. This moment is not for jokes. His gaze lifts off the ground and would like to express exactly what can skip all but rebukes. Joko's eyes are in fact sincere through and through, as their eyes meet.
*
The cat does not want to go back demolished in the transport basket. Klaas is a little awkward in his kitchen, as Mona forcing the animal into the container after it has seen full of joy.
"Am I glad you're so good to watch them," she then turns to leave to Klaas. The term stands there with folded arms, doing mostly as if it would be so for him everything in order.
"How heißt'n your cat anyway?", Then chimed Joko, from which you do not know why he's here. But it is precisely here, and the animal has welcomed more embarrassing than it could do a six-year-old girl. Klaas' only comment to was "You make her afraid," whereupon he is a "If they have lived together with you, she's used to it!" was allowed to listen.
To see their beloved four-legged friends in the eye, lifts the basket months later.
"Lady GaGa."
"Lady GaGa" repeat, must Klaas, because he called totally inappropriate place.
Mona escapes his critical tone completely.
"Yes, my son-fan now," she laughs. Klaas wants to place the palm on the eyes and shake his head just them, but because of the spontaneous impulse of his colleague would displease safe and he is afraid that she could tell him to Kathy that is safe, even after two years of wrongs.
Joko laughs, however, along with Mona, a little too high for Klaas' taste, but so distinctive Joko-like plane. So contagious, and sooner or later always a positive influence.
Things get better when the door is closed, and Mona has left along with her Lady GaGa apartment. The laughter dies down to an amused grin and Klaas begins to understand that he will soon be home more will have of this laughter in all variations.
In fact, writes his life on the 15th February when He watches while the glare, fit to a flash of the gorgeous flowers. Again and again, irregular, contrary to the beat of the rain pelting against the window pane. Flowing streams to flood the glass and form a closed wet film on him, then flooded the street outside the window, hammered the garden soil. Klaas
do not know when the storm began to rage - he knows spontaneously even when he has ever experienced a storm in February - but that's imperious roar from the sky has awakened him. The face half buried in the pillow and the blanket wrapped tightly around the body, he blinks irritated towards the window. Outside world. Storm.
arrived disaster.
The ostrich is a huge, dark spawn on the little table by the window and the light of the flashes redefined. The blind is half let down, his teeth chattering in the wind and knocked devastating.
sultry air is not to make identified. You can smell the scent of roses. The 14th
February is over. Nevertheless, one can still feel the embarrassment that has eaten over the course of the day into his own face. Because you got like a complete idiot a call, then had to walk to the reception and there answer a really big bunch of roses had. The supplier an unsuspecting courier flowers, the Klaas no could tell who he can get such a lavish Valentine's Day gift.
online purchases. No idea. Anonymous.
Klaas has turned down, to escape the broken German of the man as well as the delighted eyes of all others present.
He does not want any roses. He knows
Catch tavern, and she really happy. Otherwise.
But the smell creeps pushing him in the nose, his brain whirl until it is liquid and flows down into his chest. Just to his heart that has to do, of course, nothing better than to act like a sponge.
There is no catch Schenk.
And every, oh God, everyone knows it. Klaas would To die as he enters with the flowers the way back to his office and gets slammed from all sides, prying eyes and wisecracking. The fax of his colleagues like sparkling pin pricks on his skin and the only response is to offer his body has a Casual smile with which he presses the lower lip painfully tight in his teeth, until they have left their marks felt there.
admirer?
Since when did you buy another friend?
friend in ?
Each word is linked with a quick wave or irritated eyes roles of consciousness. But every word is so powerful that even its echo still like a shadow falls on Klaas' mind, and worse than too small a shoe pinches.
Solely the fact that people see him keeps him from the bunch weiterzuverschenken to one of the plump secretaries or the greenhouse simply throw them in the next bin.
He's so desperate!
He's so angry ...
the roses back in the office for punishment are not placed into the water. Klaas thanked the world on their knees here and now to have peace and quiet. Outside his office door the rumors creep like snakes down the aisle, do not realize that they have poisoned him long ago.
well as that Joko is not there.
The ostrich behind Klaas worked long, longer than usual just to see him less people than you have to go with this monster home. The roses are like a shield on a language of which he always assumes that all mankind mastered it.
His fans are not corny enough for Rose Bouquets of its kind
How he still wants his fans would be 14 and had him put a love letter to a model. On pink paper, in his Sunday magazine.
But the roses mean so much more.
And he does not want to see.
It is common.
He knows that and the peppers Strauss, he's hardly at home through the door, into the waste in the kitchen. Where he fits in. not even clever, but holds up in terms of redness Klaas only a mirror.
Since he can not remain. Of course he can not.
The gift staring, register the kitchen counter in the back. Feel the edge of experience, their own breaths. The air is pulled from the flowers to be absorbed. Hugs. Only one time
If Klaas but only once ..
caught in a mental chaos mercy to Klaas of the Roses, is looking for a vase and placed it in his room, ultimately, weil. ..
Because he is a melancholy in decaying head man, is all that will here. Will not. Will.
such absolute terms can not do. May. Should.
rub Outside, different layers of tempered air equally to each other as the opposite opinions in his head. Let Klaas wore down to face the television turn on and go to bed early that day.
He does not want.
He wants too much ...
A thank you really can not expect from him. Not after all that the roses have done to him.
with rage that digs like a wild animal through his abdomen, he manages to actually fall asleep.
later to just a few hours to wake up again. The smell of roses severely burdensome to the soul and the heart.
It is common. He knows that, and he does not do this alone. The addressee knows the same way. The only question is whether that also understands why ...
From his bed in the living lightning game Klaas observed outside the window. The collapsing of the bouquet of light, as if the heavens open. As
would open the Gates of Hell.
The leaves are smooth, soft and give in to such creatures hungry for love Klaas' fingers as he to be caught himself stood up and walked over to the table. Not aware of. His befuddled mind staggers after him and has problems to find the right way in the dark.
He will always have a problem. This . The
, what do the flowers with him. The
why the flowers are even here.
relaxes the muscles but absent, you Verhaart the window. Projected in the rain a tune that swings and shouts and cries in secret.
It is good that he did not appear.
that he has mentioned the roses with no sound.
It is better that way. Exceptionally well-hush is unfortunately the best alternative for both of them in the long run. Klaas has it's not meant as when he mentioned teasing the upcoming Valentine's Day last week. He could not but , Suspecting that his comment would have such consequences.
He's an idiot. A huge idiot even for subliminal, as it was clear that it only needed a pretext to allow a proof of love is because ...
How would it look but if it were not so sad, because it is a single dead-end ...
mixed from a bedside table in the beeping of his mobile phone at the scene and makes it sluggish zurücktapsen to the bed. On the way Klaas collects bleak on his mind and feared to have anxiety attacks, as he reads the text message arrived. His lungs are empty. His head, however the brim.
Arrived?
His fingers are sweaty and trembling on the keys, before He orders to take a deep breath and keep your sense.
He will not do that.
He can not. He could never.
Yes, thank you. But since you have misunderstood something.
There is no hesitation when he has finished typing. There are only a tremendous delay and a nasty acid reflux, when his phone starts to ring. Not a minute after the SMS was sent ...
He must go to it. He has no choice. He has to run through this now, no matter how little he wants it.
"Yes?"
"I did nothing wrong. "claps Joko's voice to a more hectic than it would do against the rain, it would now open the window. The flood of suppressed emotion
Klaas for an indefinite time under water. He can not breathe, his lips are the sake of survival as tight as possible pressed together.
"But," hidden Klaas his swallowing and hesitation, as he is accompanied by more than is good for him and Joko. "Sorry, you have all-you totally the wrong message, I"
"Why do you say that?" The question stretches down one there like a perfect head shot.
Klaas has the storm in the neck, a Hand roses and a hand clenched on the phone. His body is a collection of spontaneous immeasurably increased despair, which he has avoided for years by all means. Nothing is worse than in his job the wrong people to love. Or he may say here, the wrong kind of man '?
The silence pushes Klaas around expectantly. He's just an idiot in a group of emotions that make him ready for every day in the media world. Because he is different. Because he has a problem with it, to be different. Or because it makes the world a problem if it is different.
"because it's true," answers one simple against the roar of nature.
"No, does not. "Joko bites from the teeth at the offered him stubbornness. And that hurts, Klaas hears more than clear. A little it feels like when he has gone to primary school and inadvertently made the favorite Barbie has broken his little sister. She sat there and cried and he stammered a useless excuse, but they just can not stop crying. He could not make good, he can not do that here well.
The only difference between then and now, is it just that he intentionally does. That he is silent and swallow and hate as Joko understand a bit more with every second that he is not just wrong.
That
Klaas him, unintentionally, just loves.
That is not done. The main rule in Klaas' life is nothing to do with a colleague. Never! And if they do, with less than a colleague. What is it to the fucking world that he prefers men? That has not really interested to sow. This has to shave no. But that everyone will look in his profession. The image is an eternal dictator.
"This is nothing," you try on a rigid message and sets a tough "with us" section. Just to avoid any misunderstandings definitively rule out a priori.
Joko must understand that it can ...! And
even if not, he knows that Klaas is ticking Sun He must have felt! How could all develop the still so? How could a maneuver in this situation with the storm in the back and the roses in his hand?
in Klaas' ear spills a deep breath. Then a word, what makes him shudder.
"Well ..."
Whatever this man at the other end of the line is done, Klaas is a mystery. But it makes it seem as if it was for him truly such a thing as acceptable.
This is so damned unacceptable!
In Klaas' fingers alternate with the rose petals stems and thorns, as his hand a piece of sinks, tired and disappointed. Because Joko not continue fighting. Because Joko does nothing more for him to pull from the arms of this disgusting rationality and fear. It Klaas was expecting just that. Opposition uprising. Revolution.
It demands too much.
Just because he's miserable term coward.
Joko has done much for them both.
"Throw the roses away," says that now, and seems provoked by the irritated expression of a show to watch. "The pain just before you do. Until tomorrow then. "
listening to phone, Klaas understands that Joko is right. Somewhere over his helpless fingers clasping the stem blood flows, somewhere on his face runs a tear.
An adoption is of no further trouble. Joko Klaas has done a favor hang up. Klaas because of it, but could not.
He probably has never gargled as intense as that day. The head thrown back, eyes closed for a moment and a hand on the sink, you will find Klaas before the men's room. The hand that is not on the pool keeps clutching a paper cup in which - have been water - for obvious reasons needs.
letting fall the door behind him, observed the elder, as his colleague to flourish before rejects and spits out the contents of his mouth into the sink. Nachzusetzen not without it again. Besides his keen eye travels via mirrors into Joko's direction and cuts in his face.
"real nasty", is all you get to hear from Klaas on arrival, as the paper cup that is now in the throws for used paper towels provided for trash.
It required even a blind man to overlook earlier that Klaas-enriched him swallow the vomit was. That he would have blown the whole action the most.
"It's all gone well," you have to smile at him. His mouth but then rises, but only ironically.
"If you puke designated nest as well, then yes."
Rolling Eyes Joko decides to enter a little closer to the slightly acidified people. Ordinarily, if only to lose that Klaas is a bit out of tune. Puking that losing the case would make matters worse, one would have have guessed from the outset. Presumably, this has also entertaining, until the fact simply ignored, brushed aside the idea and let the stupid idea of the stage has.
"Come on, you've still done well," Joko repeated the encouraging words from earlier, with whom he has tried Klaas zuzuspielen recognition. Not necessarily because Klaas' performance is like a heroic deed, but primarily because it helps to paint his ego. A better tactic is simply not ready Joko, to appease the very stiff-looking face of his friend.
"The stuff was really creepy, old age," Klaas' voice creeps seething over the white tiles and comes in white as a reproach to artificial light at one.
"I know, however, is the only thing you can say. Because yes, we know it stop.
"More seriously, how did you come up with this stupid idea? That was ludicrous "The last word Klaas emphasizes simplicity with a gesture that shows a bird Joko. "I mean, you'd at least tell me yesterday to" You Klaas, eat better tomorrow not so much for lunch, best nothing
"Now you reg not retroactive certain things..." The thing is' over. "
" I do not reg on me! I only say yes! "
" And how do you get upset. Oh, Klaas "
" No, no, ah Klaas'! In "The sentence is, in my mouth is still the taste of puke! " hot, but he is caught by both Joko's clothes and his body when the elder chooses a simple yet powerful embrace. The hands of Klaas 'back and places it skillfully picks up so close that his breath is a warm place where Klaas' mouth of Joko's chest floats.
The other body surges of adrenaline. Penetrates Situated feasible. Joins sullen halt in the mirror over the Joko lurks. Finds itself, Klaas sees. She sees both, without the ugly, white protective suits, but they perfectly ordinary in their appearance. As they are flat, they two. Together.
Far away from television, and makeup, Klaas is actually still a little pale in the face while harboring his eyes a dull imitation of tears.
to let him take the emetic was not mean, as to be beaten. Joko could now give the best, teach, and to emphasize that Klaas has brewed the whole thing himself, but he knows where that would work. And just as it is now, it ends better.
It took just a little staying power in the form of detention, in the form of Klaas keep to himself to put down the Rebellion brawler. To sit and watch while his eyelids in the mirror may, as they are now really close for a moment.
conciliatory with his hands stroking Klaas' back, Joko bends his head forward so that it is sufficient if he whispers. Klaas leaning close enough to him to understand every note.
"You could say yes to that you that is too glaring. And then-"
" Would you have won automatically. Safety '
"Nope."
"No?" One of Klaas' eyes open and casts a questioning upward. The mirror up. Joko's smile grows, as their eyes meet again in the glass and are much friendlier than at their last meeting there.
"Then I would put this stuff stop first." The accompanying shrug is minimal. Their own facial features have something other than smile assessments. Klaas' eyes will close again when he suggests a shake of the head, bites his lip and a response saves.
Internally they both know that even if no camera and no one would otherwise have been present, Klaas mitaufgesprungen would be on the train. He would not let the Joko alone. No matter how much he disliked the matter still is contrary. Each of them has
dear heart palpitations because of the other than by reason of an emetic.
In
Joko hands and fewer cozy fabric of Klaas' top then and is replaced by warm skin as his fingers make their way upstream. Of Klaas' head over and immerse themselves ultimately to his face. Only a small step is to kiss needs to Klaas' cheek, and a low voice, to then proud to whisper in his ear. The tips of the teeth while leaving everything else as accidental scratching of the ear lobe.
"Sorry, now I know just how I rumkrieg you."
not being able to hide the spontaneously occurring Rotfilm, pulls Klaas consult long-standing distance. with a proposed minimum Consequently, he pushes a force away from him. Grin. Not laughing, just as Joko that the supposedly angry! "Hey, shut up" in any way more impressive, but only to clarify one thing can:
"I love you too."
