Michaela Merz

The theft

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wollmutzeClara was standing on the station platform waiting for the next train. As she had often done recently, she passed the time with Snapchat. She held her telephone high in the air, so that it looked as if she was filming the surroundings. She was separated from the next platform by a deep trench and two railway lines. The platform was almost deserted. Far away stood a man watching Clara with a sour expression.

“Hey you“, he called in her direction. „What are you doing? Stop filming”.

Clara was far too occupied with herself to grasp what he said. Then he started moving, jumped into the trench between the platforms, crossed the rails and pulled himself onto the platform, where Clara was standing. He snatched her mobile out of her hand and when she stretched out her hand towards him, pushed her away with full power. Only with a great effort did Clara succeed on staying on her feet and not falling over.

He didn’t get far. The station was monitored by video and the whole scene was followed in the police station. Because a mobile unit was passing not far away, he was caught before he could even leave the station. Clara got her telephone back and the man was led away. Clara’s whole body was shaking and she found it difficult to calm down. As if from nowhere, a memory from her childhood from days long past came back to her.

It was winter and she had travelled with the class after the swimming lesson by bus. As she was never really able to dry her long hair, she was wearing a very colourful cap, which her grandmother had knitted for her. The cap was the last one that her grandmother had made, before she had suddenly died at Christmas two months ago. Clara missed her grandmother a lot. No-one understood her like her beloved grandmother.

The bus stood in the station and a lot of people climbed in. A young man, to whom she had until then paid no attention, tore the cap from Clara’s head and just before the door closed, he jumped out. The bus started moving and Clara‘s cap was gone.

This story, which had happened 10 years ago, was suddenly as present as if it had only just happened. Clara began to cry and her tears were for her own helplessness, but also for the loss of the cap, and finally for the loss of her beloved grandmother. When the tears had dried, she felt a lot better.

Image source: S. Hofschlaeger  / pixelio.de

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