Warning!
This is a book for the open-minded only!
If you feel that you already know all about the mysteries of our existence, your view of life is set and you would like to keep it this way, then this book is not meant for you. Don't bother reading...
Just to be clear: I am a brunette, not a blonde :) But I liked the picture by alzbetta from DeviantArt.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Men are not disturbed by things, but the view they take of things."
- Epictetus (55-135 A.D.)
"You did. . . what?" I asked Beni, surprised but quite amused at the same time by what he had just told me.
"Since they would not allow me to become a pilot, I quit the military. Ahead of time," he repeated matter-of-factly.
For a moment, I stared at the tall, slim boy with the dark, slightly curly hair. He was sitting across from me on my bed, grinning. His eyes held mine. The mischievous sparkle lightening them up told me that he was definitely pleased with his actions.
"But I thought that you had passed all the physical tests and your eyesight is even beyond one hundred per cent. . ." I trailed.
"True, but at the very last medical examination, they found a minor problem in my spine. Nothing to be concerned about in everyday life. But as a pilot, your body has to withstand forces equaling a few times earth's gravity. And even a minor problem can turn into a serious one under that kind of pressure."
"I understand that part, but did you not have to sign up for a full year in order to be eligible to become a pilot?" I asked again, turning to put on one of the records that I had bought during the weeklong trip to France that our class had enjoyed in October. Besides Prof. Hausmann and my French teacher Prof. Wiesner, Prof. Maier had been one of the chaperoning adults. Which was the reason why we had been allowed to go there in the first place: our trip had been labeled a cultural educational journey with emphasis on the medieval architecture. And, indeed, we had paid a visit to what must have been every single church and historical building all the way from Paris down to the Provence!
"Yes, I had to. But when I was informed that I would not be chosen, I really had no interest in continuing the education to become an officer. You know, I'm really not that fond of the military. . ."
"You don't say," I deadpanned.
"But surely. . . you cannot get out of the contract, just on a whim?" I pointed out.
"Usually not. But it seems that I successfully conveyed to my superiors that I would be a nuisance rather than an asset, should they force me to stay for the extra time. . . good heavens, what kind of music is this?" Beni's voice had switched from calm and collected to annoyingly whining, in a matter of seconds. As soon as the first chords of my favorite French group had reached his ears, he had immediately lost all his composure.
"Why? This is a rock-group called 'Telephone' and it is incredibly popular in France." I tried very hard not to laugh.
To be honest, I had suspected and even expected that Beni would not approve of my choice of music. As much as he loved everything Italian, he hated anything French. . .
