I knelt back down for a closer look. My heart caught in my throat when I saw scratched in the cement, “Dag ‘03”. No. It wasn’t my Dag. But som... little boy had scratched his name into wet cement. I could easily imagine Dag having done the same kind of thing when he was a child. These streets were his home. He probably grew up near this very place. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t making a saint out of him and revering the neighborhood he grew up in. But it really got to me that this was his. Hilla wollte gleich einen Ring! - Welcher Meister erliegt nicht dem süßen Lächeln seiner "Muße" wie im Fluge.?"Ich küsse sie dir wieder heile" - das waren meine Worte - nur an die versprochene "Belohnung" denkend! - Die Schwester des Meisters sagte zu Hilla nur: - "Gott sei Dank, daß du zu den Frauen gehörst, die noch Haare auf der MuMu haben! -"Ich will und muss dich küssen! Oben und unten!Hillas - gepflege aber unrasierte "MuMu" - - Noch am Abend verfasste der Meister einen handgeschriebenen. More

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