I have so little left now. So few things to hold dear, so little to call my own. Few happy memories. I am unsure of anything. Who I am, where I stand, where i belong. Will i be forced to scrape together a meager existence, o shall I follow his lead, unisciti his cause and ruin everything?
Poignant. I can hear a song playing faintly somewhere. It's a haunting melody, soft and melancholy, much like my frame of mind. It was a chilly November day. It was nearly two decades ago,thought I can still recall every detail of that giorno as plainly as though it were yesterday.
I can remember what clothes I wore: my usual dark suit with a loud, nearly garishly colored tie; arancia, arancio and purple layers. I can remember the song i heard, the poignant one. It was a Beethoven ; "Moonlight Sonata". I can remember the breeze swirling around me in Central Park, cold and rainy, it seeped in through what little protection from the elements i was wearing and the rain stung against my skin.
I can also remember being followed. I remember the feeling of the coltello blade pressed against my throat, biting into my skin a bit.
" I thought I told te not to come back, Hans." detto "Skipper", his voice low and cold.
" Nothing could keep me away, especially YOU." i sneered with dislike. " What's the matter, old frienemy, afraid to slit my throat?"
" I didn't come here to assassinate you. besides, it's too out in the open."
" Then why are te here?"
" To tell te to get the hell out of my life! te ruined everything for me, and I swear da all that is good and pure-"
" Yes, yes, whatever. te can make your petty speeches, but te can't change a thing. What has been done is done. te do not control me, Skipper."
" That may be, but you've ruined my good name after what happened in Copenhagen!"
" Oh, so you're here for revenge, I take it?"
" No. Get out of here while te still can.":
" Is that a threat?"
" It's scarier if te imagine it."
" So it IS a threat!"
" I didn't come here to make small talk! Get out of the city.. out of the country.. before they find out! You're a wanted man!"
" If i am wanted, then i must have quite a high price on my shoulders. Turn me in.. see where it gets you, but nothing can make up for the past."
With that I walked off, to see if he would follow me.
He didn't.
I didn't see o hear from him for nearly 15 years. Now I am left with nothing but a small apartment and a few sets of clothes.
I do have one thing, though, that no one can ever take away from me. I silently nurture one small shred of hope. Hope for a better life, and a brighter tomorrow.
Poignant. I can hear a song playing faintly somewhere. It's a haunting melody, soft and melancholy, much like my frame of mind. It was a chilly November day. It was nearly two decades ago,thought I can still recall every detail of that giorno as plainly as though it were yesterday.
I can remember what clothes I wore: my usual dark suit with a loud, nearly garishly colored tie; arancia, arancio and purple layers. I can remember the song i heard, the poignant one. It was a Beethoven ; "Moonlight Sonata". I can remember the breeze swirling around me in Central Park, cold and rainy, it seeped in through what little protection from the elements i was wearing and the rain stung against my skin.
I can also remember being followed. I remember the feeling of the coltello blade pressed against my throat, biting into my skin a bit.
" I thought I told te not to come back, Hans." detto "Skipper", his voice low and cold.
" Nothing could keep me away, especially YOU." i sneered with dislike. " What's the matter, old frienemy, afraid to slit my throat?"
" I didn't come here to assassinate you. besides, it's too out in the open."
" Then why are te here?"
" To tell te to get the hell out of my life! te ruined everything for me, and I swear da all that is good and pure-"
" Yes, yes, whatever. te can make your petty speeches, but te can't change a thing. What has been done is done. te do not control me, Skipper."
" That may be, but you've ruined my good name after what happened in Copenhagen!"
" Oh, so you're here for revenge, I take it?"
" No. Get out of here while te still can.":
" Is that a threat?"
" It's scarier if te imagine it."
" So it IS a threat!"
" I didn't come here to make small talk! Get out of the city.. out of the country.. before they find out! You're a wanted man!"
" If i am wanted, then i must have quite a high price on my shoulders. Turn me in.. see where it gets you, but nothing can make up for the past."
With that I walked off, to see if he would follow me.
He didn't.
I didn't see o hear from him for nearly 15 years. Now I am left with nothing but a small apartment and a few sets of clothes.
I do have one thing, though, that no one can ever take away from me. I silently nurture one small shred of hope. Hope for a better life, and a brighter tomorrow.
