2019 Let's create a book! | Page 24

24

‘Can you speak French?!’ I asked out of breath while the barber was sweeping the floor.

‘Yes. Are you looking for a haircut or for Abel? Though, he left 10 minutes ago.’

‘Oh, neither a haircut nor Abel.’

‘Then, why are you wasting my time?’ He interrupted rudely.

I started telling him my entire story… well, almost entire. I left out the part about the box. I thought he would consider me insane. But it doesn’t matter, the important thing is what he said next.

‘Well... I’m compelled. See this broom? It would come in useful to employ an assistant. If you work here, you can stay.’

Friday, November 23rd, 1962

Everything seems perfect, the first snow has fallen and I have a shelter, I live above the barber’s. The work I really do is sweeping the floor, taking out the rubbish, tidying-up the shop, cleaning the tools. I am not paid, but food and warm bed is provided. I’ve even picked up a bit of German.

But still I’m stuck in a hole. I don’t know where to go next. I came to find my brother, but the only information I have, is a name and his age. I’ve been going around Bremerhaven asking everyone if someone has seen or known something of a thirty years old Englishman, but with no luck. I have even been thinking of breaking the box, but I stopped myself... I dashed through many efforts, I can’t give up.

Thursday, November 29th, 1962 Evening

I was working as usually when a client came in. He didn’t look