„Youre late.“ The greeting was as frosty as he had imagined it to be. He sat down across the table and ordered a coffee, while she was still looking at him with cold fury in her eyes.

„Look Kristin, Ive got to tell you something“ He truly hoped, this would work.

*** A little while later***

„Liar!“
The word was thrown at him like the piece of ceramics that followed shortly after. A piece of ceramics containing the most aromatic and possibly strongest coffee in the whole town. And it was hot. The burning on his skin would undoubtedly continue to bother him for at least a few days, but now he did not even flinch, as he had literally seen that one coming a long while ago. He needed to explain this. He needed to make sure she understood.

From an outside perspective the situation would have looked quite amusing actually. The scrawny, brown haired boy about twenty years of age, who set across a woman of possibly 15 more years. Not really enough to be his mother, but still like some from of guardian, to confer a sense of responsibility and protection. And then the guardian turned into some form of screaming angel of revenge and throws the just delivered coffee at her charge. Especially as the boy was clad in a long grey jacket and equally colored pants, complete with gloves of the same color. She was dressed in a much more colorful fashion with a red T-Shirt and blue jeans, so the Angel of revenge now died the grey with brown, boiling color.

Oh she did not seem to want to understand, since the porcelain kept coming.

„What did they do to you? What did they do?“

The screaming voice got a little shriller every time that sentence was repeated, and seeing that it was to be repeated a few times more, yet it truly would be a pain. A pain in so many ways. He felt his heart ache at the thought of loosing her, but quenched the feeling with keeping in mind the thobbing of his right arm. He extended a grey gloved hand. A little spider crawling on the desk. She stared at it in disgust, her blue eyes filling with tears at the same time.

„Get away!“

The words hit him harder then anything she had said before. The train he had been looking at, the train coming ever closer had finally caught up with him. Had tossed him around. Had broken him.
So he straightened up and left without another word.


Wandering aimlessly through the streets of the Speicherstadt he found himself wondering about moving on. He had looked at this city for so many times. He still had not gotten tired of it really. He hoped he never would. But he knew that never was a really long time, especially with him. And as if to make a point, time slowed down to a tickle and the lights of the city were unmoving as if they were a picture.

And as if it was one of many the pictures kept coming to him. Little flashes of the past, little glimpses of a life he did not know how to react to yet. The life he had before. The life he now had. After. More he couldn't say. Before. After. More he couldn't see right now.

Before

A little boy playing on a river amongst ropes and cables, tools and steel. The speed being slow compared to the cars raacing by on the streets. Comfortingly slow. Grey eyes always watching around. One could never be sure, what would happen next. The engine could beak, a door need oiling, so he was always watching. He was to be his fathers finest aid in that, by simply knowing what was broken, even before he could guess it was broken. He would be the one to be telling him. Childish thought they were running through his head. Before now.

After

A young man, around 20, staring at his own hands. Simply staring.. Staring even, as he covers them up with gloves.
How had he been feeling those days, when he realized, that things were different now.


The very image of that man was standing in Hamburg now. Thinking about what to do and maybe even... where to go?
Could he really leave this city, a city to call home, a city of water? Sure he would miss the many bridges. The little canals, the rivers. And he would bear it. He had to go now. Sandy dust was carried away with the wind, as the man turned around and left the City and its magnificent views behind.

***

“Alle Passagiere des Fluges LH4456 von Frankfurt nach New York werden gebeten, sich zum Ausstieg C zu begeben”
“All passengers for the Flight LH4456 from Frankfurt to New York please proceed to gateway C”

The people milling around him, gave him an eerie feeling. It seemed as if all of them were one many colored mass, shoving around their trunks and bags. A mass without faces. A mass without soul it seemed to him as he watched them go by. Pass him by really, because he was sitting on a chair that the architect of the building had thankfully supplied for needy travelers. Only the sound of the speakers overhead were disturbing him. The electronic voice filled his ears and his head, making him think about how best to rewire a computer. /Format C , thats what the riter of that program got to get for his wonderful invention. Somewhere in him something wanted to scream out loud and louder, as he was frustrated not only by them, but also by himself. Then he realized that the same voice he was so busy ignoring was just making the final call for his flight and he rushed off towards the plane.

It turned out to be a big Airbus, which was already filled with passengers. Noisy and quite noxious passengers really, as he came to think of, especially both his neighbors to the right and left seemed intent on asking him all kinds of questions. Finally, after receiving no answer for over half an hour they settled on discussing him between the two of them. His grey gloves were a point of special interest for them and they spent nearly an hour debating them.
In short: He was quite ready to kill them when they finally touched down at his Destination.

The Airport he arrived at was no different from the one he had left from. Even the sun seemed intent on staying in the sky for yet a little while, though it beginning to settle already. Maybe aside from the very thorough checking for both visa and luggage that he had to go through. All done by sternly looking men and women. As if I were a terrorist he thought, unaware of the fact that a little time earlier, mutants had been hunted and put into camps for that very same reason. Another interesting thing were the forms presented to him by a rather well fed individual. “Caucasian, African-American,..., Mutant.” It read. There even was a line for powers. Seeing it the question crossed his mind whether the people making these forms were actually quite sane. But seeing that he did not want to disclose his powers or even the fact that he was a mutant, he selected Caucasian instead. Finally even the smirking officer behind the counter seemed to be satisfied by his forms. “Welcome to America.” He said with a suddenly much warmer voice and stretched out his hand. He didn't even flinch, yes he was very proud of the fact, that he did not flinch, but he left the hand right where it was and proceeded with now cleared bags and suitcases. And finally he could also release the tight grip on his power, already getting a headache. Staying synched for so long deliberately really took its toll. He cringed remembering his flight “attendants”. Why had they been speaking so slowly anyways? Making his way through crowds of people again, in a mere fraction of the time – Was it really much shorter? He did not bother to check. He really did not want to know. He needed to get out. Just out.- it had taken him to get through the other airport, he finally got our into the open and took a big breath of air. I'm finally here. He felt as if he had a big weight lifted from his shoulders.
He really needed to go somewhere quite now, which was the exact thing he told the cab driver, who immediately drove off into the darkening city.

Continued in The Sweat and the Sour