He was lying, on the floor in the middle of the untidyness of his room. Breathing. He wasn´t sure what time it was. Time wasn´t important anymore. Monika had gone.
His breath was becoming calmer when he became conscious of the great distance which was between them now. He first had to go to Mexico and then conquer her heart. Two impossible to manage tasks were dividing him from her, whereby the last seemed to be the most difficult one. The ticket to Mexico could be bought by credit. He had only two months before the holidays would be over. He wanted to see her. Even stronger than this wish, was the longing for her love. Two aims which could not be reached by a flight to Mexico City. She had taken off. With a lot of hand-waving she had said good-bye. His hope had gone with her passing the airport controls.
When the plane took off, he was still hoping that suddenly she would stand beside him and say in her very good German: “I thought about it, and decided to stay here.” After having a pott of coffee in the airport restaurant within sight of the airport runway he had together with the reviving effect of the coffein experienced what it meant to have fear of being left behind. He had suppressed the impulse to follow her with the next flight. If his love could not hold her back then every effort from his side in a foreign country without knowing the rituals and the language to reach her feelings would be without success…
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