"Why doesn’t he hug me? Hold me? We
were so close once. How I miss his manly musk, his parfum, his soft
hands and gentle kisses. Instead, a handshake, firm and unwelcoming, and a grimace
upon his face, his once-eager lips etched in harsh line and shadow. And his eyes do
not meet my gaze. I am here! See me! Are we not brothers? Nay, more than. And are
we not here in this great German city of Munich to give me more money to fight
Russia, to defeat the Bear before he conquers all?
So many here are like him, sad and reluctant, so like my
sweet macarons with greetings that are more like farewells...
They smile and make promises but their words are lost in the wind. I feel a chill and fear that a great northern gale will soon be
upon me."
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