Der Glückliche I.1.
The night train of the Swiss Federal Railway traveled in a determined northern direction.
That’s how usual the beginning of our story is.
The lights outside the windows of the train car wrote a line in the darkness.
ran dead straight at times and at times they swayed.
From great heights, they looked like a
luminescent snake against the dark landscape background.
The man, with whom we intend to
concern ourselves, stood in the corridor of the second sleeping car, a bottle of mineral water in
his hand, whose plastic crinkled every time he drank from it.
At first glance, he seemed younger
than he was.
On the one hand, this was because of his clothing, which fit perfectly, but was
meant for younger men.
Above all, however, it was because of his upstanding, self-confident
posture that led to the assumption that he played sports regularly.
However, This Studer, the
man’s name, who we are accompaning on this journey, is a lethargic, lazy man that doesn’t like
And at second glance, we thoroughly see his 48 years.
By the way, there is nothing special about him.
Nevertheless, should we attempt to
He is one of those men, whose look can’t be remembered exactly, even though he
doesn’t have a common face; or does he?
At best, one remembers the bump on the ridge of his
nose, his pointed sideburns or that he is big and hefty and tends to lean slightly forward when
walking like a ski jumper that is about to take off from a platform.
The most noticeable thing
about him certainly is his smile, which is perhaps the reason for the folds and little creases that
spread around his eyes like a wreath.
Or does one perhaps merely imagine these folds, these
scars of happiness, in memory?