Montag 21. September
His hand found his glasses on his bedside stack of Jung. Wandlungen und Symbole der Libido. Psychological Types. The Psychogenesis of Mental Disease.
He bowed his head, unfolded the thick-rimmed lenses and donned them. Heute nehme ich auf die Welt, he told himself. Today I take on the world.
He shaved in the mirror to his morning Edith Piaf. The music kept him awake. His mouth twisted around to even out his cheek. The ensuing curious expressions mimicked a woman putting on mascara. He leaned forward, stroked, then voided the razor in the sink.
He hummed along and tried not to nick the cleft in his chin. He wondered where he'd left his last dry-cleaned suit. In the closet? On the chair under his framed diplomas? A Diplom-Psychologe. A doctorate from Göttingen. He took pride in those credentials.
At the foot of his bed his sleeping dog came to its senses. It blinked, then lifted a large head on a tiny body. A brave venture o