The fools, if only they knew! As we run along the path, near the canal, early in our morning routine, I see them, their eyes on you, on the golden girl, sometime on me… I can read their puzzled minds, jealous, tortured to see what must be a very happy, if odd, couple. Their imagination must run wild.
Our routine takes us all the way to the river. There we undo our running shoes, store them safely in our rucksacks, and we swim to the other side. Then we follow the time honoured path we have for so many years. Back along Unter den Linden, across the Tiergarten, and then down toward Kreuzberg and our small home, our shelter.
The first time we did this we were much younger, if this could make any sense. All around us were ruins. The conquering soldiers could not see us then. We hadn’t yet taken our present forms. Just ghosts, the pitiful remains of two lovers, victims of absolute war.
Why did we stay? Well, it’s our city, we have nowhere else to go. Here are our memories, our friends, hidden, deep in the ground, unlike us, who keep passersby intrigued by the sight of an athletic pair in old fashioned 30’s sport gear.