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Each time before she props herself on her forearms and turns her bottom to him, he first checks whether the legs will hold, not hers, but those of the collapsible table. Everything about his life at this time is provisional. And could come crashing down at any moment. Himself first of all. Transiti…

He’s sitting in the bar of the Berolina, getting drunk. Ingrid didn’t want to talk to him tonight, which was maybe for the best, but what was he going to do by himself in his one-room box. He didn’t want to take a single step without Katharina. The kid has optimism for two, she needs to, and she sw…

[...] She knows that it’s perfectly possible that while she’s asleep he’s maybe writing the sentences that will sunder them. Just when the bill for everything is due, just before their wishes become reality, everything is once more up for grabs, teetering at the top and maybe about to collapse, she…

Two weeks ago, when Ingrid was taking Hans’s jacket to the dry cleaner’s, she found a passport photo of Katharina in the inside pocket and wouldn’t talk to him for three days. He didn’t tell Katharina. In October Katharina cried for the first time about the fact that he was married, and in November…

Barbara is the name of the waitress at the Arkade. She’s tall, and taller when she puts her hair up. Two coffees and two glasses of Rotkäppchen, please, Barbara. A celebration. It’s their third 11th day, their trimensual anniversary, and if Katharina had a wish, then she would wish that fate never …