2019 Let's create a book! | Page 22

22

Friday, September 27th, 1962

No connection with my brother has left. I live in the countryside in England and I don’t even know where in Germany he could live. But what if that gift is the key I’m looking for. He couldn’t go far... right? Even if I find out where he lives, what’s then...?

Hesitant at first, but after a week of thoughts I’ve decided… I am going to Germany. The ferry leaves tomorrow late at night. I packed only essential items and a box, as I didn’t plan to stay abroad long, I still wish to come back to my home farm.

Saturday, September 28th, 1962

When I got into the ferry, it was still long before dawn. The silence on the deck made me think of the box and what secrets may lie inside. Granddad’s stories never revealed what was hidden inside, but it always seemed so important... For me it’s just a box I stumbled on in my attic, which presumably dates the twelfth century. It sounds absurdly. I guess, they were nothing more than just a bunch of bed time stories… But, I suppose, everything granddad told is true and that raised my eyebrow.

At sunrise the ferry approached the shore of the town Bremerhaven, which was unaffected but lively. Asking for the directions I realised that not being able to speak a word in German, it won’t get me far. The only other language besides English I could speak was French, though just enough phrases to make a conversation.