luckey pillow....th
Oooh - thank you! And tonight I really am going to slide off to bed at a sensible time... I think I have gotten myself moderately excited... I need a pillow to play with....
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P
Pia
Guest
Chapter 4
The sky outside was streaked pink by the setting sun when the two girls rose, yawning, from their slumbers, stretching their limbs and stroking one another gently.
Gisela untangled herself and disappeared to the kitchen, returning with two slender glasses of wine.
“So Sylvie, you want to know my story... I’m going to have to take you back in time. To another country, a country that doesn’t exist anymore... Are you ready?”
Sylvie looked up, her brow slightly furrowed, and nodded.
It was 1987, and Gisela was looking forward to her eighteenth birthday. She was in her last year at the Heinrich Mann EOS on the corner of Gustav-Freytag-Straße in Löbervorstadt, across the Flutgraben from the city centre. Twelth grade was almost done and she, with her class-mates, held out hopes for getting one of the few places at the Karl-Marx-University in Leipzig. She was a normal, happy-go-lucky teenager, good at her studies and increasingly aware of the shifting mood around her. Things were changing.
Winter, as ever, was bitterly cold. The communal heating system kept the flat tolerably warm, but some days it didn’t work. And the walk to school through the snow-filled streets was a daily nightmare - although an oddly sweet nightmare. Soon New Year would come with the celebrations and in January her birthday at last. She couldn’t help but being excited as she chatted with her friends. The sun sparked on the white banks heaped up by the roadside and the air was filled with scintillating ice crystals. The three girls were well wrapped up, their hair hidden under home made woolen hats, the chill emphasising their young rosy cheeks. It was a long walk from Geraer Straße, but the best part of the day they thought.
“So what are you planning for your big day then Gisela?” asked Hanna, tilting her head and letting a blonde curl fall over her eyes.
“Well, I heard about this great little place in town, in the Domstraße... It’s a bit “underground”, you know: music, poetry, readings, cool stuff...”
“You mean the sort of place that they stake out right eh...You know - hidden cameras and taking lists of names in their filthy little books?” replied Barbara
“Well...I don’t know about that, but it’s my sort of place I’m sure... I think you’ll like it too. Martin said it’s really good and there are some fantastic people there. They really are into... well... You know... Good stuff. Good music and stuff... Will you come?”
“Oh, course we will, won’t we Hanna? We like a bit of playing on the risky side, you know that don’t you?”
Barbara smiled, wrapping her arms round the shoulders of her two friends as they skipped along, kicking the fresh show into the air, their bags bouncing on their backs. Just a few weeks to go then they’d all be eighteen and the world would be theirs!
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Oh Barbara, you know not what you are getting yourself into here
!!! Nice set-up PK
P
Pia
Guest
The snow had been cleared away from the streets in the old town, and a freezing rain was falling on the flag stones as the girls rounded the corner of An den Graden and, shaking their cheap anoraks, went down the steps into the club, immediately exchanging the miserable dank night for the smoke-filled cellar. At one end a punk-looking band dressed in what looked like bin-bags hammered out their chords, screaming invective into the mikes. A youthful crowd filled the space, hands waving in time to the beat. At the other end the numbers thinned slightly, a few groups hung around the bar or lay splayed in the battered old armchairs and sofas, gesturing and shouting to make themselves heard over the songs.
Gisela pushed up to the bar, desperate to assert her new status with her order. Bottles of beer soon stood glistening on their mats. The girls clinked them, shouted out their birthday greetings and quickly downed their drinks, flinging their wet hair back and slamming the empties onto the counter.
A girl leaning on the bar, a bit older than them, maybe in her twenties, flicked her wavy reddish-brown and turned.
“Hi girls. Celebrating something special then?”
“It’s Gisela’s birthday! And we’re all going to get very drunk!” shouted Barbara.
“Well, then let me buy you another drink then. You seem to have finished the first pretty quickly! Hi, my name is Alexandra.... Here you go.... Hey, let’s grab those seats eh? Before the music stops. Everyone will want to be sitting when the poetry starts... Come on”
They pushed past a few sweaty bodies and squeezed onto the two sofas.
“So, I guess you’re all students are you?”
“Er...sort of” replied Gisela “I mean we will be soon. We’re at the EOS. We’re all going to Leipzig after we finish. That’s the plan anyway...”
“Well, good luck with that. Maybe one day I’ll get to university too... Til then I’ll just keep reading my books I guess...”
“So...er... Alexandra” asked Barbara “what is it you do? And where are you from? It’s not around here is it?”
“Not much really... I’m a hairdresser... and I act a bit... and... well... I’m into politics... And yes, I’m not from here. I’m from Berlin. Anyway, let’s drink”
The night rolled on.... The smoke became thicker and the poems and readings more and more intruiging. Deep discussions rolled around the room, voices raised then subsiding into quiet conspiratorial whispers. The girls felt that they had entered into another world. And Gisela was increasingly conscious of Alexandra’s body drawing closer... Her eyes finding any excuse to gaze into hers. And grew conscious too of a certain annoyance in Barbara’s gestures. But they were entranced. Alexandra seemed to know so much. About politics, about the latest music and literature from the West. About the events in Poland. About samizdat. And she seemed so grown-up and sophisticated. And she was so... beautiful.
Gisela felt a finger wrapping around her heavy red curls.
“So... I’m hot... Why don’t we step outside for a moment and... get some air? Are you coming Gisela?”
Gisela turned to Hanna and Barbara, her eyes asking for permission...
“Ok off you two go, but don’t desert us G!” Hanna laughed. Barbara screwed up her nose and pushed her up... “ Go on then. But come back soon. We want to enjoy your birthday with you!”
Under the words, Gisela knew that Barbara was hurt. They’d been together for the last two months. This was her special day. She loved her... But... Well, she just felt impelled to go out into the cold wet street with her new friend.
No sooner were they outside, the rain still pounding down, than Alexandra pushed Gisela hard against the old crumbling brick wall, almost ripping her anorak open. Forcing her leg firmly against Gisela’s pelvis, rolling her knee back and forward, shoving her wet lips into her face, winding her fingers round her hair.
“I need you. You are so perfect. I need you! I want you!”
And they dissolved in a sea of wet kisses, Gisela’s legs wrapping around Alexandra’s waist, suspended in a deep clench.
How long were they there? Maybe five minutes. No more. But it was a sheepish Gisela who sneeked back into the bar. And a smiling Alexandra who followed her.
“And so Sylvie...” said Gisela, draining the wine from her glass ,“so that’s how I met Alexandra. And I guess that’s how I lost Barbara. And I’ll never know how my life would have been if we hadn’t wandered out into the rain that night. She changed everything I knew. And... Well... Do you want me to carry on with my story?”
Sylvie nodded... Her eyes stared wide at Gisela...somehow seeing her afresh... seeing a life behind that lovely face.
“OK... let me get the bottle... I think we’ll need a bit more wine... and then I’ll carry on”
Gisela pushed up to the bar, desperate to assert her new status with her order. Bottles of beer soon stood glistening on their mats. The girls clinked them, shouted out their birthday greetings and quickly downed their drinks, flinging their wet hair back and slamming the empties onto the counter.
A girl leaning on the bar, a bit older than them, maybe in her twenties, flicked her wavy reddish-brown and turned.
“Hi girls. Celebrating something special then?”
“It’s Gisela’s birthday! And we’re all going to get very drunk!” shouted Barbara.
“Well, then let me buy you another drink then. You seem to have finished the first pretty quickly! Hi, my name is Alexandra.... Here you go.... Hey, let’s grab those seats eh? Before the music stops. Everyone will want to be sitting when the poetry starts... Come on”
They pushed past a few sweaty bodies and squeezed onto the two sofas.
“So, I guess you’re all students are you?”
“Er...sort of” replied Gisela “I mean we will be soon. We’re at the EOS. We’re all going to Leipzig after we finish. That’s the plan anyway...”
“Well, good luck with that. Maybe one day I’ll get to university too... Til then I’ll just keep reading my books I guess...”
“So...er... Alexandra” asked Barbara “what is it you do? And where are you from? It’s not around here is it?”
“Not much really... I’m a hairdresser... and I act a bit... and... well... I’m into politics... And yes, I’m not from here. I’m from Berlin. Anyway, let’s drink”
The night rolled on.... The smoke became thicker and the poems and readings more and more intruiging. Deep discussions rolled around the room, voices raised then subsiding into quiet conspiratorial whispers. The girls felt that they had entered into another world. And Gisela was increasingly conscious of Alexandra’s body drawing closer... Her eyes finding any excuse to gaze into hers. And grew conscious too of a certain annoyance in Barbara’s gestures. But they were entranced. Alexandra seemed to know so much. About politics, about the latest music and literature from the West. About the events in Poland. About samizdat. And she seemed so grown-up and sophisticated. And she was so... beautiful.
Gisela felt a finger wrapping around her heavy red curls.
“So... I’m hot... Why don’t we step outside for a moment and... get some air? Are you coming Gisela?”
Gisela turned to Hanna and Barbara, her eyes asking for permission...
“Ok off you two go, but don’t desert us G!” Hanna laughed. Barbara screwed up her nose and pushed her up... “ Go on then. But come back soon. We want to enjoy your birthday with you!”
Under the words, Gisela knew that Barbara was hurt. They’d been together for the last two months. This was her special day. She loved her... But... Well, she just felt impelled to go out into the cold wet street with her new friend.
No sooner were they outside, the rain still pounding down, than Alexandra pushed Gisela hard against the old crumbling brick wall, almost ripping her anorak open. Forcing her leg firmly against Gisela’s pelvis, rolling her knee back and forward, shoving her wet lips into her face, winding her fingers round her hair.
“I need you. You are so perfect. I need you! I want you!”
And they dissolved in a sea of wet kisses, Gisela’s legs wrapping around Alexandra’s waist, suspended in a deep clench.
How long were they there? Maybe five minutes. No more. But it was a sheepish Gisela who sneeked back into the bar. And a smiling Alexandra who followed her.
“And so Sylvie...” said Gisela, draining the wine from her glass ,“so that’s how I met Alexandra. And I guess that’s how I lost Barbara. And I’ll never know how my life would have been if we hadn’t wandered out into the rain that night. She changed everything I knew. And... Well... Do you want me to carry on with my story?”
Sylvie nodded... Her eyes stared wide at Gisela...somehow seeing her afresh... seeing a life behind that lovely face.
“OK... let me get the bottle... I think we’ll need a bit more wine... and then I’ll carry on”
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P
Pia
Guest
....possibly.....You.....LOST.....Barbara?
P
Pia
Guest
“Well... I guess I don’t need to go through everything minute by minute... and I’m thinking you can work some things out too. So... Me and Alex, we got closer and closer. I was still seeing Barbara obviously... We still walked to the EOS together every day. And I guess I still loved her too... We’d still do the usual things. Hang out together. Swap stuff we’d written. She’d still come over to our apartment in Geraer Straße and we’d be like... like nothing had happened... but I think she knew it had. And Alex sort of joined our little circle. Or rather we joined hers. It was fun and exciting and different. And very, very political. For us girls it was like an awakening. We learned so much. And they were exciting times Sylvie. Like you can’t believe...”
Sylvie snuggled closer still, whispering “so...so what happened then?”
“Well... we just found ourselves part of this amazing crowd. Lots of women. Some were much older than us and had been through a lot. We talked about everything. Not just politics. Art, drama. Everything. We talked about how things might be. I remember one woman so well... She was called Gabriele Stötzer.... She’s famous now I think. But then she was sort of our inspiration. She’d been to jail and she’d had her gallery shut by the Stasi... We thought she was amazing. And there were others too... Katherina Voigt... I remember her too.... She must have been about thirty I think. We worshipped them. And there were guys too, of course. They were all great. It felt like we were going to bring the whole thing crumbling down. We’d spend so much time together. Me and Barbara and Hanna... and Alex... We’d type up news and help with printing... It was all in secret. Our parents couldn’t even know... And then after... Well... We’d head down toDomstraße and drink beers and smoke and think we were so grown up. Then maybe if Barbara’s parents were away I’d sneek back to her place... or maybe I’d sneak back to Alex’s little flat. It was tiny and such a mess... And I guess that’s where I ended up more and more. Anyway... That’s how things were. But I guess I better tell you what happened. It was the spring of 1988 now...”
Sylvie snuggled closer still, whispering “so...so what happened then?”
“Well... we just found ourselves part of this amazing crowd. Lots of women. Some were much older than us and had been through a lot. We talked about everything. Not just politics. Art, drama. Everything. We talked about how things might be. I remember one woman so well... She was called Gabriele Stötzer.... She’s famous now I think. But then she was sort of our inspiration. She’d been to jail and she’d had her gallery shut by the Stasi... We thought she was amazing. And there were others too... Katherina Voigt... I remember her too.... She must have been about thirty I think. We worshipped them. And there were guys too, of course. They were all great. It felt like we were going to bring the whole thing crumbling down. We’d spend so much time together. Me and Barbara and Hanna... and Alex... We’d type up news and help with printing... It was all in secret. Our parents couldn’t even know... And then after... Well... We’d head down toDomstraße and drink beers and smoke and think we were so grown up. Then maybe if Barbara’s parents were away I’d sneek back to her place... or maybe I’d sneak back to Alex’s little flat. It was tiny and such a mess... And I guess that’s where I ended up more and more. Anyway... That’s how things were. But I guess I better tell you what happened. It was the spring of 1988 now...”
cxslave
Chain Slave
Oh I will enjoy my plane fight today thinking about all the possible ways this story could go!
RacingRodent
Consul
Oh I will enjoy my plane fight today thinking about all the possible ways this story could go!
Yes I enjoy a good plane fight too
Spelling Squirrel enjoying the typo
Oh I will enjoy my plane fight today thinking about all the possible ways this story could go!
Given the joys of modern air travel it may not have been a typo
Great pic though, RR
P
Pia
Guest
It had been three months since the girls had become involved in the group, and now it seemed to be filling every spare moment. There was something wonderfully elicit about their work – something that seemed to stimulate every nerve in their bodies. Perhaps it was the combination of the sense of doing something that would make a difference – being at the centre of the growing protest movement – and the constant, nagging, fear. A fear that made every mad tumble in a half-made bed all the more precious and fulfilling. They knew that they had to take care. The older women had given them all talks and what not to say, how to handle themselves in public, how to avoid the fatal slips that could expose them... and how to spot infiltrators to the group. And yet, somehow this just made everything feel even more special. Or it did for a while.
A Thursday afternoon in April. The chill of winter replaced by the first gentle hints of summer’s warmth. The blossom forming on the trees and settling in pink and white carpets by the kerb stones when the wind blew its last icy blasts from the east. Gisela and Barbara had finished class early. It was too soon for the evening gathering so they found their way to Café Nüsslein on theKrämerbrücke, that ancient structure of shops and houses spanning the Breitstrom. They found a small table in a corner, a bit out of the way, and ordered their coffees.
Gisela sensed that something was not right. Barbara was far from her normal relaxed self. She fiddled with her clothes, played with her spoon, rubbed her eyes. Wanting to say something but somehow not knowing how to start.
“What is it Barbara? Is it me and Alex? I know I...”
“No...no it’s not that... although you have no idea I think how sad that makes me... even if you say you still love me... but no...it’s not that...”
“What then? Come on... I can tell you need to speak to me about whatever it is... I here. I’m listening”
“I think... I think someone knows. Such strange things are happening Gisela. I got home the other week and someone had been through my room. My mum said no one had been in... But I know they had..”
“How? Did they mess it up or something?”
“No. If it had been that I wouldn’t be so scared. It was just one thing. The picture of our old dog, you know, the one over my bed... Well...It was lying on the cover. The glass was smashed...”
“Maybe it just fell?”
“No... no... It had been taken down. The glass was like in a million pieces, but every single one was just spread out in the frame... Someone took care over that... And that’s not all. Our tea... the tea in the caddy in the kitchen. It had been changed. It wasn’t ours. Oh Gisela. It’s them isn’t it? Every time I leave the building that old guy on the ground floor, he pulls open his door just a tiny bit and stares at me... Every time. I... I can’t stand it Gisela... I’m afraid...”
Gisela reached out and held Barbara’s hands in her own, gazed into her watery eyes.
“We have to be careful Barbara. That’s what they told us. Don’t be scared. They do this to try to frighten us. Come on... Let’s have a nice cream cake... That always makes us feel better...”
And the cream cake may have helped. At any rate the snuffles dried up and Barbara looked like the confident young girl she’d always been. But the transformation didn’t last. It hardly lasted until the next day in class. And this time there was no mistaking that she was someone’s target...
A Thursday afternoon in April. The chill of winter replaced by the first gentle hints of summer’s warmth. The blossom forming on the trees and settling in pink and white carpets by the kerb stones when the wind blew its last icy blasts from the east. Gisela and Barbara had finished class early. It was too soon for the evening gathering so they found their way to Café Nüsslein on theKrämerbrücke, that ancient structure of shops and houses spanning the Breitstrom. They found a small table in a corner, a bit out of the way, and ordered their coffees.
Gisela sensed that something was not right. Barbara was far from her normal relaxed self. She fiddled with her clothes, played with her spoon, rubbed her eyes. Wanting to say something but somehow not knowing how to start.
“What is it Barbara? Is it me and Alex? I know I...”
“No...no it’s not that... although you have no idea I think how sad that makes me... even if you say you still love me... but no...it’s not that...”
“What then? Come on... I can tell you need to speak to me about whatever it is... I here. I’m listening”
“I think... I think someone knows. Such strange things are happening Gisela. I got home the other week and someone had been through my room. My mum said no one had been in... But I know they had..”
“How? Did they mess it up or something?”
“No. If it had been that I wouldn’t be so scared. It was just one thing. The picture of our old dog, you know, the one over my bed... Well...It was lying on the cover. The glass was smashed...”
“Maybe it just fell?”
“No... no... It had been taken down. The glass was like in a million pieces, but every single one was just spread out in the frame... Someone took care over that... And that’s not all. Our tea... the tea in the caddy in the kitchen. It had been changed. It wasn’t ours. Oh Gisela. It’s them isn’t it? Every time I leave the building that old guy on the ground floor, he pulls open his door just a tiny bit and stares at me... Every time. I... I can’t stand it Gisela... I’m afraid...”
Gisela reached out and held Barbara’s hands in her own, gazed into her watery eyes.
“We have to be careful Barbara. That’s what they told us. Don’t be scared. They do this to try to frighten us. Come on... Let’s have a nice cream cake... That always makes us feel better...”
And the cream cake may have helped. At any rate the snuffles dried up and Barbara looked like the confident young girl she’d always been. But the transformation didn’t last. It hardly lasted until the next day in class. And this time there was no mistaking that she was someone’s target...
RacingRodent
Consul
Brilliant evocation of the constant drip of fear living in a police state and that oh so unspecial moment when you first discover the clues that someone is checking you over.
me too much
P
Pia
Guest
Cream cake can help sometimes.... but not always I am sorry to say....
Oh, dear Lord....
PK's at it again.
My nerves are putty in her hands
Pass the cream cake!
Oh, dear Lord....
PK's at it again.
My nerves are putty in her hands
Pass the cream cake!
That cream cake is getting a lot of circulation