Das ist the title of a trashy-looking German novel I saw lying around in a guest house a while back.
Well, I too am alone with the angst here in Bangkok. L. has returned to Germany, and I am temporarily camera-less. (I dropped my Kodak P880 off to get repaired and won’t have it for a week or so–it was functional but the lens was stuck in one position after the big moto crash.)
What to say about L.? It’s hard to describe, and still hard to believe, how intensely our paths collided and converged, how much we experienced together over such a short time. As she wrote to me when she got home, it’s like sharing a secret that neither of us can ever fully explain.
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