Unattended belongings

Two guys, whos apperance the German police would carefully describe as “Mediterranean type”, checked into the hotel late at night- while I was sitting in the lobby and writing. In the morning they appeared again, accompanied by a young German girl, a pretty one, with pale-rose cheecks and large, almond-shaped eyes full of tears. The young men checked out rather hastily- she stayed, and after a small hesitation asked me for a charger for her phone, which I occasionally had.

She waited while her phone was drinking in electricity, silently crying by the table, then she called somebody, and from her anxious, hasty monologue I understood that she had nowhere to go and that she couldn’t sleep by her mother because “police and Jugendamt were there”. She wanted to know how to get to Jannowitzbrücke, and that’s how it happened that I drove her there. I offered it myself.

On the way, she told me, that she refused to have sex with those guys, and that’s why they left so quickly, disappointed. She couldn’t go home, but she had a friend near Janowitzbrücke, where she could crash for a few nights. She smelled of face powder, cheap perfume and alcohol, and she desperately tried to smile when I asked her if she needs help. I would have helped her. God, I would have paid a hotel for her, just because I didn’t want her to cry, but she refused. After these two guys, she probably thought, a strange foreign creep would be already too much.

By Jannowitzbrücke, I bought myself a sandwich, and while I was eating it, alone, I saw a sign warning everybody about the danger of “unattended belongings”. That’s the word- I thought. That’s what we all are- the unattended belongings.

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