Dreams, memories, reflections . . . Fantastical stories of urban nomads in Berlin, New York City, Toronto and New Orleans . . . The dreams in which you and I were together were slowly being replaced by ones in which I watched you and Tullis walk hand in hand along the Berlin canals. I did not know her name in the dreams; I only watched, always on the other side of a busy roadway, and even when I was able to get close, neither of you seemed to see me. Or maybe you did, but it didn t matter that I was there. The years and cities and transatlantic flights; they all passed. I inherited money I hadn t been expecting and bought an ancient little house in Berlin but rented it out, only keeping a tiny attic room for myself. Mainly it was filled with books I d never found the time to read. When I passed through I d pick them up, wonderingly. Most of them I couldn t remember ever even having bought. I met Tullis on the subway once. When I think of this, it seems almost impossible. I d seen her face in dreams so often, yet she was no one I d ever met. I d never met you either. It seems very strange for there to be two people in my life I only know from dreams, but so it is. from Even the Mirror Harvesting the Moon is the remarkable second collection of short stories from Ursula Pflug.
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