Sometimes after a day or a week or a year, you can make sense of a thing. Sometimes not. Forty years later, this is one of those -- a story just out of reach. Senseless. I'm old enough to remember what happened and how it felt to see it, but I don't. Not really. I imagine now it felt like falling. Being frightened feels to me like falling.
Connollystrasse 31 is ordinary. Faceless. Broad bland panels of glass and concrete. Like other late modernist buildings, it promises a future ...
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