A week’s furlough, a holiday in Westberlin, or West Berlin, or Berlin (West) – A furlough with a dark blue “passport for Auntie’s birthday”. A holiday from the familiar system. One week.
Within the space of seven days, I’d almost settled in completely. And then it all ended abruptly with the slamming of the dark green, steel door, a door purporting to lead to the world, all under the watchful eye of security cameras. Home.
But it was with more than a queasy feeling in my stomach. Something other than just a feeling, located somewhere entirely different, indefinable, inexplicable. Here you are constantly forced to explain yourself. But didn’t Johann Gottfried von Herder say, home is where you do not have to explain yourself? Home?
Hours later, finally the feel of rough toilet paper on my arse! Home.
(From "Das Mauer-Syndrom", a collection of short pieces of prose written and compiled by the author between 1961 to 1990)
Jürgen Nagel (Ost-Berlin)
(2 rankings) 
