it was my first day of high school. tanzenberg, an old monastery, sits on a hill about 15 kilometers from klagenfurt so basically you have to take the bus there. it was my grandfather’s duty to get me to the bus stop which is pretty close to where i work nowadays. when we arrived there wasn’t a single soul but only a deserted bus stop. i remember the look on my grandfather’s face, he was a always a person of respect to me. he looked lost and vincible, he had failed, it was him who had looked up the departure time in the wrong timetable. minutes later i was sitting in the comfortable backseat of a taxi that drove me to school that day. i arrived just as the other kids squeezed themselves out of the packed bus. yesterday while driving home a taxi stopped next to me at a red light a little boy not older than 10 or 11 on the backseat. i must have looked just like him and my grandfather – at least for me – became a hero that day.
i believe.