Last august I spent a week in Kiel for something called “the literary summer”. During the day I wrote my pieces about Afghanistan – I just got back from Afghanistan – and I made for the last time corrections in the manuscript of my novel “Tirza”. In the evening I was escorted to a library or bookstore for the reading. The hotel had a swimming pool, which I used often.
Somehow I was happy although I didn't get to see much of the city, and I developed warm feelings for Mr. Sandfuchs, director of the “Literaturhaus” here in Kiel.
So therefore I decided to give the reading tonight again the highest mark till now: 9. Mr. Sandfuchs was there, the swimming pool was there again, (not the same swimming pool, I'm staying in a different hotel but still a swimming pool) the small, red car of Mr. Sandfuchs was there again.
In the meantime Fatah is thrown out of Gaza and another lawmaker is killed in Beirut. I wonder how my fixer in Beirut is doing. The last thing I heard from her was that she was escorting journalists to Tripoli.
More of the audience in Kiel.