The clock on the wall of the "Caf茅 am Rande" didn鈥檛 tick; it hummed, a low vibration that Elias felt in his teeth. On the scarred wooden table sat a leather-bound notebook, its edges frayed and darkened by the oils of his palms.
He didn't know what the first sentence of his new life would be yet, but for the first time in years, he was excited to find out. Elias closed the book, stood up, and walked out into the rain鈥攍eaving the espresso, and the ghosts, behind. N袚陇chstes Kapitel
He felt the eyes of the waitress, a young woman with silver earrings, as she wiped down the counter. She had seen him here every Tuesday, staring at the same page. The clock on the wall of the "Caf茅