Hans-Hermann Groppe

"They are all lying", he thought entering the Hamburg central railway station. The sweat was running down his neck. It was hot and sticky. "It’s a lie that there is always rain in northern Germany." There hadn’t been rain since weeks, the colour of the grass had turned into a pale yellow, the trees looked sad with their leaves hanging down, the whole city was laying under a big hot blanket. Everybody had slowed down. Even at the station, normally a busy and loud place, people were moving in slow-motion, suffering quietly. "I hope that the air condition will work", he thought while he was looking for a free seat in his train to Amsterdam. He felt lucky that the train was almost empty and the air condition was working. He took a window seat, closed his eyes and sighed satisfied as the train left the station.
The rhythmical sound of the train made him sleepy and dreamy and his thoughts went back to the last evening. What had it been yesterday evening in the Irish pub … What the hell had it been between him and the mysterious red haired girl, the one that kept sending messages to him with her beautiful green eyes. Messages he couldn’t decode and made him confuse. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else in the pub and also he hadn’t been able to give any response. The girl had seemed to like the game and to enjoy his confusion. Finally she had left the place without saying a word but with an inviting look. "What a promise" he whispered while he opened his eyes and was shocked: There she sat, just opposite to him with a charming smile.