“Did you know that a group of flamingos is called a flamboyance?”, Benjamin asks me while fixing himself a drink in the kitchen. It is a Sunday in early June, unusually hot for this time of the year and the heat makes the whole city one lethargic mass of sticky people. >>

The apartment she had found was located in a busy street in the middle of a bustling neighborhood, mostly working class. 18 stories high, 6 flats per story, 3 to either side of the elevator. No one bothered to greet their neighbors in the staircase; there was an unspoken agreement to live and let live. >>

It’s the first warm day after weeks of what feels like a premature fall in the middle of July. Maybe that’s why the admiral’s bridge spanning over Landwehrkanal is unusually empty as if people haven’t realized yet that the summer dresses and sandals are not ready yet to be put back on the top shelves of the wardrobe. >>

Supposedly, Lady Diana ate half a grapefruit for breakfast every morning. I remember various dietary regimes my mother had been on throughout my childhood and half a grapefruit was the breakfast must-have in most of them. >>

Samstagvormittag in eine Mall zu gehen ist normalerweise eine der schlechtesten Ideen überhaupt, gleich nach Hunkemöllerlagerverkauf und AirPods bei Aldi. Lockdownbedingt ist jedoch kaum etwas los, nur Super- und Drogeriemärkte sind geöffnet. >>

Es ist warm an diesem Junimorgen, die ersten Menschen genießen bereits die Sonne in den Cafés rund um den Parc de la Myrurgia, wo sie mit ausgebreiteten Zeitungen sitzen, rauchen und nur gelegentlich das raschelnde Umblättern mit einem Grunzlaut quittieren, wenn sie eine besonders interessante Nachricht lesen. >>