It takes my breath away. I take a look at the group of people. A pitying smile, a scornful sneer; a challenging raise of the eye brows; an indifferent shrugging of shoulders…Is that it? Is there no other way? Is everything really over? Blood rushes to my head. Even if I could speak, it would only make matters worse. I can’t stand it any more. I turn around on the landing and walk down the stairs, out, round the corner, into the park and then I put some music to my pounding ears. And then I run, just run, it doesn’t matter where; as long as I run and don’t think… In the end, as sweat is pouring off my forehead, at least there’s something I can look forward to: the shower! And as I throw myself into bed in a fresh t-shirt, I think of Lilly. She has helped me once or twice in the past.
I call her up and stammer into the phone, but for her everything seems to be clear enough.
“Don’t worry, I’ll draft a letter for you”. One hour later I kept reading something which was really quite enjoyable: it was polite and discrete, written in a very composed and distant manner by someone who is conscious of the advantage of his superior position and knows how to play it. I come off the winner in this whole affair!

While I still can’t believe my eyes, my hand places my signature at the bottom… - and life goes on!