Things always seem to glide away. They come to you, stay a moment, then leave again.

It’s a small story really, about, among other things: * A girl * Some words * An accordionist * Some fanatical Germans * A Jewish fist fighter * And quite a lot of thievery

Personally, I like a chocolate-colored sky, dark, dark chocolate.

A small but noteworthy note. I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They are running at me.

They were glued down, every last one of them. A packet of souls. Was it fate?Misfortune?Is that what glued them down like that?Of course not.Let's not be stupid.It probably had more to do with the hurled bombs, thrown down by humans hiding in the clouds.

The happening that happened was that I met this girl.

You might argue that I make the rounds no matter what year it is, but sometimes the human race likes to crank things up a little. They increase the production of bodies and their escaping souls.