Caught up in feelings E-Book

Otto Amhofer

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 107

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Coincidence, destiny, fate. Many questions—but where can you find the answers? "The goal of human beings is unquestionable: to arrive."—Sigmund Freud Arriving—in your personal life, your career, and your spiritual journey. The story "Caught by Feelings" tells the story of Benjamin, Valentina, Clemens, and Miriam. With humor, but also with profound poetry and prose, the reader is encouraged to reflect. (It's never too late for change in life.) Right, butterfly?

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover

Foreword

I, Benjamin

The lettering

Graz Ostbahnhof

The first picture

Professor "Friedrich Schiller

Valentina - First encounter

Poster stand part 2

Carlos the dog

Bread

Valentina - second encounter - sun umbrella

To Benjamin and Clemens with Carlos at the state animal shelter

Valentina - third encounter

Jesus Christ

Moped

Earthworm 2

The picture

Child - Puddle

Valentina - Cloud steps

Valentina, you illuminate ...

Earthworm 3

The picture

Valentina - the kiss

SMS

Earthworm 4

Picture 4

Picture 5

City park

Invitation from Clemens (4 cooks)

Together

Narrative car accident

Clemens' engagement

Valentina is missing

The story of life

Romans 10

Imprint

Guide

Cover

Foreword

Caught up in feelings, the escape smiles without hope.

Caught up in feelings, reality crowns magical moments.

Caught up in emotions, the direction fights for victory.

I'll meet you on the ninth at noon for a one-on-one

I, Benjamin

(Poster stand part 1)

I had already been standing at Jakominiplatz for a few minutes. Being there earlier than necessary had long since become very important to me. I hate having to pant after a streetcar or a bus, for example.

At "Jako" in Graz, the Styrian capital, streetcar line 1 was due to arrive at 7:30 a.m. Central European Time to take me to the station. According to the stop information, the clock had to tick 180 times before then. I set my sights on a dog with brown fur and a medium-sized build. He seemed to be ownerless. He simply sniffed his way through the legs of the morning people. But the four-legged friend didn't really notice any two-legged friends, which also gave me peace of mind. As someone who had been bitten by such an animal a few times as a child, I now explained the dog's lack of interest in the many legs available to him by the fact that his breakfast must have tasted good and the portion must have been perfectly adequate. This thought cheered me up a little.

He stopped in front of a poster stand. As if he wanted to read the message on it, his head looked at what was written. He even adopted the typical dog sitting position.

A photo, it flashed through my mind.

I reached for my cell phone and hoped that Woofi would stay put. The first time I pressed the shutter button on the default setting of the cell phone camera. I then zoomed in a few times to get a bigger shot of the dog in front of the poster stand. This resulted in further shots.

An old streetcar set squeaked into the stop. Surprised that this time I didn't have to fight to the death for a seat, I managed to get one without any problems. Now I had a few stops to look at the photos I had taken of my dog. I was satisfied with what I saw on the cell phone display. At the same time, my curiosity was aroused. It was the words on the poster in front of which sat the supposedly most loyal friend of man with the brown fur.

"I sought the Lord, and he answered me - and out of all my fears he delivered me", Psalm 34:5.

Like probably 99 percent of Graz public transport passengers, I was able to get off the streetcar at the station unscathed. My 93-ton baby, my official vehicle, a locomotive named Taurus from the Austrian Federal Railways, was already waiting for me on platform 4.

The lettering

The famous "The scales fell from my eyes" happened to me on the railroad line between Frohnleiten and Rothleiten. As the driver of a freight train, I was on my way to Vienna.

In my school days, which were already several years behind me, I had to memorize "Die Bürgschaft", written by Friedrich Schiller, together with many of my schoolmates. Our German professor, who also taught us biology and visual education, was responsible for this. Due to his affection for the performing arts, we were taught using his own representation of the letters of the alphabet. My schoolmate and best friend Clemens disrespectfully described this decorative script as a failed variation of Egyptian hieroglyphics, which unfortunately also reached the ears of our professor. As a result, Clemens was often given the honor of reciting the memorized verses of the Bürgschaft to the class. Now, however, it was precisely this lettering, this decorative script or hieroglyphics, as Clemens called them, with which the words on the poster were written using a thick blue felt-tip pen.

Psalm 34:5: "I sought the LORD - and he delivered me from all my fears."

Graz Ostbahnhof

(Earthworm 1)

Mattheo, a younger colleague who is just as dedicated to rail transportation as I am, nice and likeable - that's how I would describe him on the spur of the moment, but on closer inspection I would also describe him as a great enemy of superficial conversations.

Once, I remember it clearly, he told me about his hobby, painting. My honest curiosity begged him to give me a taste of his work. Mattheo was not long in coming. Just a few days later, the time had come.

"You only have yourself to blame," he smiled as he placed his portfolio, which I recognized at first glance, on the bistro table and opened it. First I read the text of the picture:

The earthworm also wants to be loved, the bird says: "I love you." Only then did I start to look at the painting.

After sufficient observation, I got started. I could see how he pricked up his ears.

"What I see here is something that I myself, even if I were only to wield a painter's brush from now on, would never be able to depict as beautifully as you with a single brushstroke."

He asked me bluntly: "Are you drunk, Benjamin?"

'No,' I replied. "I want to use my words to express my sincere appreciation for your painting and your talent. I didn't just want to 'Yes, I like it', but based on my own experience, I know how difficult it is to paint in watercolor."

"I'll pay for the coffee," Mattheo grinned.

"Already paid," was my reply.

The first picture

Well, there was this friendly bird. No one who saw him like this would want to accuse him of having bad intentions towards the little worm. A feast is not always a feast, is it? How could the worm have reacted?

To eat with pleasure is said to announce caresses. However, to eat with pleasure could also be a danger. These various representations of appreciation or even a declaration of love, right up to the suspicion that the feathered creature opposite simply seems to be hungry, didn't exactly make it easy for the creepy-crawly. It seemed to me to be very thoughtful. I think Mattheo had deliberately chosen a question mark for the worm's posture. What, who, when, where and a curious why, that's what the picture was talking about. There were also the many colorful flowers. Some were like a question mark in their growth. My realization was that this colourful work of art did not answer a single question to my complete satisfaction. It was precisely this fact that made me curious to see how Mattheo would present his announced sequels to the earthworm story for both young and older children.

Professor "Friedrich Schiller"

I was always overcome by a strange, somewhat unpleasant feeling that I couldn't describe any other way when I saw him. My professor and head of class during my years at grammar school stood before me once again, surprisingly. He had been retired for a long time now. Judging by my first cursory glance, he looked old and frail. He stood somewhat awkwardly with a large, heavy suitcase in front of the broken escalator at the train station in Graz. My second glance revealed that his imperious, beaming eyes were still the same. I greeted him, just as he demanded of all his students at the time. This probably took him back to his school days, but I was sure he didn't recognize me. As was his custom back then, he briefly thanked me for my greeting. His gaze then unmistakably invited me to offer him my services as a porter. I felt transported back to my school days. Back then, his upright posture combined with the use of his eyes was enough. The person he briefly stared at immediately jumped up, rushed to his bag, which was lying on the teacher's desk ready to be collected, and submissively asked which classroom his luggage was to be taken to.

Wordlessly, I grabbed his suitcase and he left it to me in the same way. We took our positions and walked up the steps without saying a word. With brief instructions, he told me where his car was parked. He opened the tailgate of his station wagon with the remote control and I put his luggage inside. At first, my ears didn't want to believe it.

"Thank you," I heard.

"Thank you, Florian," I heard in reply.

The confusion between my name and his did not bother me. I was all the more surprised to hear more from his mouth: "Thank you, Benjamin Florian." He was the only person to use my two first names, which can be found on my birth certificate, as they were when I was at school.

"You're welcome, Professor. Have a safe journey home." Again, I almost couldn't believe it. He smiled, which was very strange to me, and waved goodbye to me.

Valentina - First encounter

After I had jumped onto the escalator, I stopped. I was gasping for breath. A traffic accident had blocked the progress of the streetcar I was on to the main station. So all the passengers got off and had to walk the last kilometer to the station if they had any intention of catching this one train like me. My lungs were aching. The familiar female loudspeaker voice announced the departure of the train.

How I hate situations like this, I thought, and rushed up the remaining steps with the last of my strength. Just a few seconds before the doors were finally closed by the train driver, I jumped into a carriage in one leap. My head reported a lack of oxygen. My stomach reported nausea caused by a short-term overload of the body. I noticed a general lack of strength in my limbs.

But now I had to find a seat on this always overcrowded train. Panting, I waddled down the aisle of the first carriage without success. I did this with great caution, as I couldn't rule out the possibility of stepping on my own tongue after this physical exertion. It was the first time in my everyday life at the station that such an effort had been necessary to get on this train, as I had to reach my locomotive on time, which was waiting for me a few stations further on.

Walking through the second carriage, I could almost only see occupied seats. Slowly, my body began to remember its resting pulse rate. I continued my walk through the train. My search for a modest little seat, which I intended to claim for myself, was almost doomed to failure due to the behavior of some passengers or seat hoarders, as I call these people. My explanation to these multi-seat owners. Of course, the rear end of a person with a valid ticket should find its deserved rest in a comfortable seat. However, the person's strained feet spread out on another seat, and at least one more seat is taken up by luggage and utensils of various kinds. Searchers are punished with contemptuous glances and thus successfully driven away. So I also capitulated in the third carriage in my search for a place to stay. To my delight, I spotted only two travelers in the fourth carriage in a compartment that, as you know, offers six seats. I couldn't believe my luck, as I recognized two young women, one of whom looked particularly ravishing and enchanting. When the sliding door opened, their attention was naturally drawn to me. I greeted them and asked for one of the four remaining almost empty seats.

"No," replied the unfriendly one, according to my assessment. The ravishing and enchanting look remained silent, smiling.

Without saying a word, I stepped out of the compartment again to see if there was a reservation for the free seats. There was no such reservation to be seen.

This confirmed my decision to return to the compartment and I asked the unfriendly lady: "Do you have a multi-seat ticket?"

"One what?" the unfriendly woman asked unkindly.

"A multi-seat ticket," I repeated myself. "Since you're claiming three seats for yourself."