Rondua blog

Hinter dem Rauch wehte schlaff die deutsche Flagge im Wind.

Deine Uniform ist so schwarz wie die Nacht.

She turned for the last time and walked to the car, her high heels clicking on the asphalt once she left the carpet of grass. Bosch leaned back against the tree and watched the driver open the door for her. Then he lit a cigarette and watched as the sleek black machine carried her out through the gate and left him alone with the dead.

Dann legte er sich, und alles war wie vorher.

Ja, ja, dachte Johannes und schüttete die Asche mit besonderer Vorsicht in die Grube. Eines Tages gehen wir alle diesen Weg.

Dupin blickte hinaus. Weit hinaus.
Ja, alles, alles war gut.

Bosch hung the print in the hallway near his front door, and from time to time he would stop and study it when he came in, particularly from a weary day or night on the job. The painting never failed to fascinate him, or to evoke memories of Eleanor Wish. The darkness. The stark loneliness. The man sitting alone, his face turned to the shadows. I am that man, Harry Bosch would think each time he looked.

«Wir finden was», sagte sie.