At the end of the world

 In 2017, the time finally came. I packed my bags and headed to the end of the world.Once there, I unpacked my belongings and sorted my underwear, knee socks, wool shirts, suspenders, sleeve protectors, my beloved accordion, and teeth into the containers provided for them in the attic of the small but immaculate guesthouse I had rented for a modest fee.

The sun was shining, the flowers were bending towards it and sparkling with countless butterflies, a light breeze swept across the calm lake and rippled the bright silver waters. The trees and pines rustled softly, and the pensioner's beautiful daughter served me a freshly caught mountain trout, seasoned with provocative spices and rosemary, which I quickly ate, despite my hunger. After all these experiences I sank into bed dead tired and soon fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, from which I was awakened refreshed by the first crowing of a cock.

But alas! The sky was leaden grey, and what woke me was the horrible squeak of the ancient tap in the communal shower. A torrential rain was beating against the windows, for the wind had raised and piled up the water of the bottomless mountain lake, which yesterday had been so calm, into menacing waves that greedily gnawed at the rotten landing stage of the boarding house. Foam covered the dirty windows of the bare shed used as a breakfast room, where a grumpy, sleepless lady was throwing iced coffee and some dried crusts at us, with a fine mist that soon prevented all visibility.

However, I recovered splendidly until one day the innkeeper charged me. I was a little angry that the night cost me five euros per person and a poor quality breakfast. I thought it was too much and told the nice man so bluntly. So clearly that I found myself on the street with broken teeth and a torn vest. Of course, my dentist was happy because he is the one who earns the most from the dentures.

From time to time, only a crumpled and half-torn brochure from the pension "Until the end of the world" reminds me of those difficult times. But, somehow, it was nice.

 

 ManHistories

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