" Do you know these stories, beginning with a cold, stormy night. I hate these stories, but this is just starting, they must, because when I think of that night, I feel the bitter cold in my face, the automatic term, pain-numb fingers, were of the Eiszähnen the wind already completely chewed and I think of the trees, what ghostly shadows they cast on the floor of the house walls and how this storm, the branches through the air waving like they were the arms untwisted Patchoulimädchen that be lulled into a dark romantic spice trance music. I was tired. The lengthy discussion of the renewed failure of this unfeeling idiots, described by the friend as her soul mate when she called him not emotionally flat fucker had me blown the energy from the blood and I just wanted to reach my room, the clothes on the way to bed and lose crawl under the covers, they think Pull head and fall asleep from exhaustion. Dreamless dream dreams. I went the usual route, past the dilapidated haunted house with decayed onion dome which I so loved and welcomed each time like an old friend for whom filed a smile and no words were needed more, next to the pizza over, until I finally the slightly hidden entrance of my favorite parks discovered. In the middle of the night I should not go through here, I thought I remember because I thought that every time I went through this maze of dark corners, but I could not help it. I liked it too much there. Just when it was dark. Maybe you need the thrill, he had said and demanded of me that only a wry grin, because it showed me how little he knew me yet. Again. No, it was not because of the possible danger that I did not know what to expect behind the next tree, which the dim light of lanterns hidden radius, I liked the silence of these moments. The noise of the city was left behind that exorbitant hedges, on the day it insulated him only. Only my footsteps and the wind, all I heard. As a very famous picture book I had the graffiti vorrüberziehen to me and would not have been this new logo, an expression of love that could have been carved into a tree early, distracted for a short time, take a I noticed it earlier, maybe I would have approached her gently, maybe I had happened to them slowly and deliberately. Instead, I saw this bright first figure only from the angle of the eye had to, look like in the movie a second time and not only I stopped abruptly, my heart stopped for a moment. There she was, maybe twenty feet away from me, only the glimmer of moonlight illuminated and the wind played with her hair, tresses blew in the face of the closed eyes, let it dance through the air, the dark blue puppet hair. They did not move, at first they just stood there, silent, but not stiff and I do not know how long I had already stared until I noticed she was wearing no shoes. Or a coat. Only a summer dress that was even too cold for July nights and just a bit brighter than its lunar white skin. And then she began to hum, softly at first, then louder, until I clearly heard the melody, which tasted like vanilla smell and after ice crystals. She rocked in their own music, danced on tiptoe, her hands stretched towards heaven, as they could reach the clouds and suddenly it started to snow. Thick clouds of cotton fell, the entire park is transformed into a snow white world. Flakes caught in her hair and a smile of satisfaction stole into her face. You opened her eyes, looked at me and said I must go now. Do not forget me.
And before I could find my words, she was already gone. When she had never been. Sometimes I think I got me cocky, but every time the snowflakes dance floor, I hear their tune. I'm sure. "
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