A good story

I’m going travelling again. For the first time in many months, the web designer is also feeling the effects of the economic crisis. It’s about time, and it feels good. A friend is having a party for no reason in the foothills of the Alps. After a three-hour drive through the worst holiday traffic jam, I arrive in Kaufbeuren in the early evening. The address says it all: Schönblick.

Celebrating for no reason is good. No destination, no plan, no expectation. Everything that is: just happens. What doesn’t happen is not missed. I know no one and expect nothing. Few old rules apply today. But few in return – and perhaps precisely because of that – all the more so. My favourite: good things only happen when you don’t expect them.

The sun is shining. The horses are grazing. The barbecue brings meat, the keg of good beer. Words here, a fag there. I don’t remember many names. Everything as usual, nothing special. Night falls. A fire is lit and the stars begin to shine. I’m not very drunk, so I can still judge words quite soberly.

Out of the blue, a story reaches my ears. I don’t know who told it, I don’t know any names, I don’t remember any faces. It shouldn’t matter. Nor the content of the story. What does matter is that the story shines brighter than the fire and all the stars. It is about a path. A goal. Faith and happiness. Destiny. Perhaps the story was simply told very well, perhaps there is magic between the third and fourth beer.

It simply shines. I love good stories, even when they end badly. But I haven’t heard one this good for ages. It ends as abruptly as a Hemingway story begins in the middle. Even before I realise why it thrills me so much. Probably even before it’s finished.

The guests become fewer. The fire is fuelled to burnout. I look around to see if I can still get the end of the story. But I can’t find it anymore. It doesn’t matter. I’ve heard a good story. I lie in the tent and write about it. Cowbells are ringing. Fir trees rustle. Stars shine.