quite some stories have already found their way into this writing forum. do not hesitate to activate your keyboard and keep us stunningly gazing on the screen.
a friend of mine asked me to get hold of a certain picture which he had puchased more than 20 years ago and which was going to suffer by its age. and as i was flying to london anyway i promised to look after what he desired. i passed madame tussauds in a taxi and saw a long cue of waiting people who all wanted to see the wax museum. to make my way into the museum short i passed the waiting cue and the ticket box and spoke directly to the reception man in a beautiful uniform who controlled the tickets at the entrance.
"pardon me, sir, i am looking for a picture which must be in your museum. you can see a man with a hanging rod in his hand and the deliquent is just getting up from his chair to follow the invitation getting executed. beside him a woman with a white pot hat is sitting on a chair concentrating herself on a cut off head on her knees in order to clean it. can you tell me where i can find the picture?" the door man was certainly used to hear strange stories from visitors but this time he looked at me with big eyes and said if i could repeat what i was searching for.
"of course, it's my pleasure, sir", i continued and started again: "the scene is in a cellar or maybe dungeon. you see a man from behind with a hanging rod in his hand. he is bowing a bit forward towards someone sitting in a chair. this deliquent seems having difficulties to get up from it following the gentle and inviting guesture of his executer. to his left a young woman is sitting also on a chair. she has a head on her knees upside down and with a spoon she is taking out the inside from the head if i am interpretating the scene right. anyway, the picture is covering a whole wall of a restaurant which is highly frequented by hungry guests who love to eat there and spend their happy days."
the door man made a move with his head proving if it is still on. then he said to me: "please come in, sir, and when you have found the diapositive come back and tell me where it is, will you?"
back in cologne my friend asked me if i had found the diapositive. shaking my head as a kind of excuse i remarked that i din't find it anymore there. the bristish sense of humour must have changed with the years."
