Another day E-Book

Dietmar Dressel

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 73

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Content description The narratives in this book are fictional. The happy and unhappy actions and the deeply sad experiences of the protagonists are a fusion of experiences from the daily life of our time. The various events are a snapshot that brings people's depth of experience to the limits of their physical and psychological limits. How real life plays in everyday life.

Leseprobe

The future has many faces.

In love for Barbara, Alexandra, Kai, Timon, Nele and Isabelle.

To act in love, one has to go an arduous path.

What drives him and what he always wants, without really having to do it, ultimately turns man into what and how he is.

Dietmar Dressel

Content description

The narratives in this book are fictional. The happy and unhappy actions and the deeply sad experiences of the protagonists are a fusion of experiences from the daily life of our time.

The various events are a snapshot that brings people's depth of experience to the limits of their physical and psychological limits. How real life plays in everyday life.

Chapter

I leave my little world

My domestic pig Hansi

The milk car

A conversation with the inner voice

Days in Prague

An uncertain flight

Love and pain

The Grief is like death

Press release by Michel Friedman from April 16, 2012

Lawyer, politician, publicist and television presenter

The author is not a new Goethe, nor is he a Thomas Mann. Fortunately, because that's what makes him so credible.

I cannot say whether Dietmar Dressel speaks to the reader here as an autobiographer or is pure fiction for the best. However, as close as he gets to the reader with his stories, I think that a strong personal connection to the characters must have inspired the author.

The stories are happy, beautiful, thoughtful and deeply sad. Just as life is, a wild roller coaster ride of feelings. Arrival and farewell are central themes of the book. Snapshots that make you happy, invite you to linger and linger long, long.

The book does not educate, it does not teach. Dressel is not an author who wants to show us something. He is not a master of the school but touches him. The book hasn't changed my life, but I may have gained some perspectives. Whatever Dressel got into this book must have been an intense experience. Anyway, I want to read more from this author.

Dressel's work will certainly not be a book of which one will one day say: "What was left of the century". He lacks the provocative of a grass, the ramblings of Thomas Mann, the prepotent of Mario Barth. And there is no magic apprentice in it either. And yet I'm certain that a great author is discovering his talent here.

Bringing a child out of your own belly is as beautiful as a magic piece!

Simone de Beauvoir

I leave my little world

If the sounds from mom's mouth don't deceive me very much, she sleeps. I think Mama snores with pleasure. Anyway, my dad says if mom should make such strange sounds. I know who my dad and mom are. When they slip into bed in the evening, they sometimes talk about how they supposedly produced me and what fun it was. Especially, my dad said, when they both tried to make my ears. How they practiced this and all of it with pleasure? Well, I do not know. I want to know what was going on there. Maybe it has something to do with mom's bed. As soon as my father slipped into the bed in the evening and the two immediately messed with each other, well I don't know. I have to say that because I can't find any other expression in my head for that.

From time to time Papa said that the appearance of a woman's ears would not be so unimportant, because we women supposedly throw our beautiful head hair back with a sweeping gesture at every opportunity, so that our ears can of course be seen by everyone . For some men, there is even a saying that goes around. I think it starts roughly with the words: "As well as the ears of the woman, so the opening of the body." Actually, this is a bottomless insolence of some men to think of anything, thanks. Thank God I'm in my mother's belly and don't have to bother with the men's world. Maybe I should say - not yet! Allegedly, at least that's what my mother said when she chatted with her neighbor about God and the world, the Lord in heaven personally created the man out of clay and water. We, we women, were turned out of a rib of this man made by God - thank you! I am really curious to see what will come of me from the created world of men everything.

Ok, of course my dad is an exception and a golden one - of course and I know what I'm saying! Regardless of whether mom is sleeping now, as far as my current location is concerned, I have to admit a kind of cozy warm paddling pool in mom's stomach that I wouldn't have much to say if mom and dad didn't do something every now and then Would bring movement in the immediate vicinity of my living area. Well, movement is meant considerately.

It is pretty uncomfortable for my parents and other people at the moment. It is cold. Thank God it's always nice and warm in my mother's belly. Of course that's important for me! Unthinkable if the water was cold here. The very thought makes me tremble. I don't have much space to move around in my little bathtub. Ok, it's warm, but cramped.

Either I've grown up lately, or mom's tummy can't keep up with my growth. Maybe it all seems so tight to me. Who knows? In any case, better than having to freeze in cold weather.

Mom sometimes talks to Dad about the uncomfortable weather in the winter months and that she should be careful not to fall with me. That would not be so funny for both of us. What is winter? Well, I'll probably find out soon enough.

This brings me to an interesting question that I've been carrying around for some time. I have no idea how to get out of mom's belly? If I have to. And I will have to. I can't spend the whole of my life here in this bathtub. That is definitely not possible. I don't even want to think about how I got into Mom's belly.

Loud ringing noises suddenly distract them from their thoughts. Oh yes, she thinks, startled, the morning alarm sounds are very loud. Mom has to get out of her nice warm bed. Oh sorry. I forgot to say that. My mother's name is Brunhilde. I just want to say that this is her name. Of course I don't call her that. I mentally say mom. I can't speak in Mom` s belly.

After the bell with the alarm clock, breakfast is the first thing to do. Of course for both of us. After that it is bedtime. Of course, only for me. Mama will probably drive her car to the supermarket. Shopping! I don't like driving in the car at all. Mom is always so terribly excited. Probably because of the slippery streets and traffic in the city. All of this makes me very restless and anxious. Out of worries about my Mama, I start pedaling wildly and turn somersault after another. In any case, she is not enthusiastic about it.

Finally back in our warm home. Mama is busy unpacking her bags and hopefully will take a little nap after all the cleaning up.

It rings! That too. Hopefully it is not Mrs. Trudberg, our neighbor. She sits and sits with us in the kitchen every time, as if she were chained to the chair. What do I say? As soon as Mama opens the front door, the fat woman's body rolls over through the entrance and runs straight to the chair in the kitchen. As soon as she stands in front of it, she drops heavily on the chair seat and audibly gasps. From the noise of the chair, I can see that this piece of furniture should not be doing particularly well given the weight.

Nothing with the hopedfor slumber hour with my mother. Thank you and no bed. I bet Ms Trudberg's question is about to come up: "How is it, dear little Susan?"

Oh yes, I forgot to say that. My parents chose the name Susan for me. I'm a girl, I know that. Mom and Dad found out from a doctor who was looking for a specific area on my body with a technical device and probably found it. Because since this investigation they call me Susan. To come back to my thoughts on how I got into mom's stomach. So seriously. How did I get in there?

Maybe that has something to do with dad's violent touches in and in mom's body? She is not averse when Papa really gets going. I notice that. On the contrary! Your blood will start to boil and her heart is pounding so hard that I get really scared. What should I do during this time? I'm not asked anyway whether I like it or not.