I was awakened by a loud banging at my bedroom’s door.

“Hey Alex, are you going to stay in bed all day?”

Nine fifteen. If you do something, do it well. I had overslept, not well but very well. Clearly I could therefore begin this day with a very satisfied feeling.

“Sorry Hen, seems I overslept a little bit…” the bed was warm and soft and felt soooo good. “Turn on the coffee machine, I will be downstairs in a few minutes.”

“Coffee and scrambled eggs are already waiting. See you in a moment.” I heard him go downstairs, clearly in a very good mood since he was singing.

I was still dozing. I had the most pleasant of dreams. I had got up in the middle of the night, dressed up as my female alter ego Xandra and mastered the worst untamable polish horse the world had ever seen. And… And normally the clothes I wear in my dreams are not hanging over the chair in my bedroom the next morning. Xandra’s clothes. Luckily Henry had not rushed into the room. I would have needed a very original explanation for the items lying around . I took a closer look at the clothes. The vest was smeared and smelled like horse where Pjotr had pushed his head against Xandra. The trousers smelt like the leather of the saddle. Holmes and Watson could take the day off, it had not been a dream.

I started to remember it all again. And especially how Claudia had surprised me riding in full drag. What a disaster! At least she had taken it quite relaxed for the moment. I could not change it anyway.
For now I took Xandra’s clothes and folded them. They needed to be washed But not now. The Montana boots needed cleaning as well, covered with sand and dust as they were. I quickly put it all back in my secret closet, put on my own clothes and went downstairs, to begin another day as the king of my own little realm.

I was welcomed in the kitchen by my subject Henry, who showed his allegiance by preparing a deliciously smelling coffee and very aromatic scrambled eggs, with bacon! Above that there was my newspaper lying ready for me to read. It had some gravy over it where somebody else had read it before, but these trifle details could not spoil my joy.
Henry was singing some baby I love you song that was clearly not meant for me. I for my part could not make up my mind if I should ask him to sing God save the King or Hail to the Chief instead. So I just sat down.

“Morning Hen. Smells delicious… Sorry I let you down this morning. I had a bad night and only fell asleep by the end of the night.”

“Don’t worry, that was to be expected after what happened yesterday. So Ben said just let him sleep.”

“Did I miss anything this morning?”

“Only a man who called if we still have a box available to stall his horse. Told him we have and gave some information about the possibilities and prices. He will call you back.”

I took my breakfast and read my paper.
As always it was full of blissful news. Financial crises, house market crises, economical crises, political crises, killer bacteria in hospitals, terrorist threats, oil disasters at sea, the hole in the ozone layer, the disappearing tropical forests and a weather forecast that never came true any way.
Clearly human beings must have some strong masochistic traits to keep buying them every day. Hardened by years of bad news it did however not spoil my appetite in the least. And the Garfield and Dilbert cartoons amply compensated for the rest.

Henry by now had joined me in this simple but delicious meal. Henry was unlikely to skip a good meal, and frankly he also looked a little bit like that.

“By the way, how is Pjotr?”

“Hmm…. He has been trying to demolish the stables all morning. Nobody dared to enter to muck out his stable so far.”

“I will have a look at him after breakfast.”

“Take your field-glasses and look from a safe distance.”

“Please Hen, I am not a little girl!” Ai…, I only realized what I had said when it was already out. I glanced at Henry for a fraction of a second. No reaction….

Henry was right. Pjotr was not capable of mastering his enthusiasm. He could clearly been heard from outside.
Ben and Peter, my other two employees had taken the tractor and wagon inside and were unloading hay when I entered the stables.
“Good morning.”
“Morning Alex. How are you?” Peter said. “The Sleeping Beauty comes at last” Ben grinned.

“Fine, thanks. Just wanted to take a look at Pjotr. And, eh…Ben. Did you ever consider a beauty nap yourself, might not harm you at all.”

A friendly laugh was his answer. “Sure boss, most of us can use one.”

I walked passed them to the source of the great mechanical mayhem. Ben must have guessed my intentions.

“You are not going to commit suicide again today, are you?” He asked anxiously.

“No Ben, don’t worry. Just as in biblical times I had a dream full of divine inspiration how to ride him last night.”

Both of them looked at me and at each other as if I had read too many biblical verses and had gone mad like the famous hidalgo Don Quixote who underwent the same sad destiny after also reading too much one sided literature.

I went to Pjotr’s box and took care nobody could hear what I said to him.

“Listen Pjotr, I know I have been rude to you yesterday. I am sorry. I should have treated you with more respect, like Xandra did. I promise you I will never do it again. Can you forgive me?”

He calmed down, neighed several times and gave me a kind of questioning look. It was as if he really understood and answered. I envied Dr. Doolittle.

“Let me groom you and show you my good will.”

I went in. Perhaps his questioning look and the way he behaved now was caused because he felt I was Xandra, and at the same time I was not. That I was Alex and at the same time I was not.
Those facts were already confusing enough for myself, let alone for a horse.

I groomed him, I talked to him and Alex did all he could to be the best Xandra he could manage. As in many things it is not the splendid success that counts the most but the good intention. Pjotr understood that well. He seemed calm and friendly now.

“Well my Polish beauty, what do you say. Shall we go for a ride or do you prefer to stay here and kick the door all day long?”

He said nothing, just nodded.

I went for a bridle, blanket and saddle and a few minutes later we were in the riding hall.
Xandra had simply forgotten her spurs and whip when she rode him last night. I deliberately came unarmed.

The two ladies riding their private horses in the hall halted them and looked in surprise at what I was doing. Everybody knew that had it not been for Ben Pjotr might at least have injured me badly yesterday.
No doubt they thought it was my friendly personality that wanted to give him a second chance to kill me.
By now Ben and Peter had come in as well, followed by Henry and a few other people. I felt like a gladiator in ancient Rome. Eternal fame or a one way ride to paradise were awaiting me. Mohammed had allegedly visited Heaven on horseback, why not me? Elated by the insight that either way things were going to be fine I prepared to mount.

Pjotr looked at me and neighed in a very peculiar tone. Strange, he really seemed to talk. And I felt what he wanted to say.

“Yes, I promised you. And as you see, I have neither whip nor spurs as a sign of good will. Apart from that we both know what you can do with me if you really want to, don’t we? So, shall we?”

He just looked at me calmly. It seemed to mean, I believe you, go ahead.
I fastened the gird, and mounted.

“Please don’t let me down in front of all these people I whispered in his ear.”

There was no question of letting me down, he did his very best. Things went very very well. One after the other the spectators left the arena. Disappointed or relieved, who will ever know.
Only Ben remained in the end. There goes a rumor that in a previous life Ben had been a famous poet. If it is true, who knows? At least he expressed his astonishment in a rhyme.

“He boss, if I would have a hat, you know,
I would now be waving it, shouting chapeau, chapeau!
But even without I say aloud, bravo bravo!

It is that with my own yes I can see,
If not I would not believe it could be,
Certainly not after what yesterday happened to thee.”

I did not have a hat either, so I just took off my baseball cap, bowed in his direction and thanked him for his kind words.

In a very different tone Ben continued.

“And Mr. I-became-a-horse-whisperer-overnight, are you going to tell me how you did this!?”

“Secret of state Ben, sorry, can’t tell you…”

It occurred to me that after having all of a sudden a secret of state we might also have some official celebration day, commemorating some important deed of the Great Leader e.g. Today seemed a perfect candidate. Like so many good ideas it was never put into practice though.

All in all we rode almost two hours together. We even did a little bit of jumping, and it seemed that Pjotr had talent in that direction. For a moment I even considered to go out with him for a ride in the fields and forests. But I did not feel sure enough with him to go out on the public road for the moment. Later.

As was to be expected, the answer I had given to Ben did not satisfy him at all. When we had dinner he returned to the subject. And from the remarks of the others around the table he was not the only one who wanted to know.

“Tell us Alex, what did you do? This did not just happen, there is more to it.”

“Well, while I could not sleep last night it occurred to me that the problem might be that we did it all wrong with this horse. That there where violence failed, kindness might have worked. In that sense it is perhaps a kind of horse whispering after all.”

It was the truth and nothing but the truth. Only not all the truth. It was just enough truth. The explanation was accepted and no further questions asked.

We went back to work. I myself to my office where a pile of administrative tasks awaited me.
From the canteen you can look down into the riding hall through a big window that makes up almost the complete short side of the hall. My office used to be part of the canteen, now separated from the canteen by another glass wall. So I can look at both the canteen and the riding hall from behind my desk.
Next to the door is a small white sign with black letters “Alex Winter, director”. For reasons that likely need no further explanation it was never called the office, but simply the aquarium.
In an artistic mood Henry had even painted some fish and a mermaid on the glass. When I then objected that we were a serious business and that this went too far I was not quite well understood. The mermaid eventually got a bra and that is how things still are now.

I turned on my computer and set off to work. As always I was interrupted regularly and in the end I did only half of what I had planned to do. I wanted to ask a “do not disturb” sign for my last birthday, but since I was sure nobody would read it anyway I asked for a high percentage present in a bottle. A wise choice, especially since my birthday is in the middle of the Winter.

After supper I went back to work and was interrupted again. This time by Claudia. Funny, some interruptions seem much more welcome than others.
She had been to the farrier with her horse. It turned out he could solve the problem it had and even at less costs than expected. She was in a very cheerful mood.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“At last somebody asks! Yes please.”

She went out into the canteen where Peter was tending the bar and taking care of a handful of customers. Moments later she was back with two espressos. She closed the door behind her and sat down on the bureau, facing me as I sat in my chair behind it.
I knew what was now going to come. And she knew I knew. That is the nice thing about being good friends for a long long time, it saves the long discussions and you can just concentrate on your espresso.

“So you were serious about what you asked me this morning?”

“Sure, why not?” And with a naughty look at me she continued “And if you can style yourself so nicely for a horse I am really very eager to see what you can do for me.”

“Well, perhaps…we will see…”

“Oh no Sacha, you are not going to weasel out of this! And after all you promised you would show me!”

True, she had decided that I had promised her I would show up in drag, wearing a skirt.

“Ok, ok, what do you propose? We could go inside and I put one on right now if you want.”

She took a sip of espresso, looked at the ceiling for a moment and then turned to me.

“I invite you for a candle light dinner, my place, Friday, eight o’clock. Is that OK with you?”

“I will see that I arrange it with Ben.”
After all, I was the boss, why could I not just ask for an evening off?

She looked at me, again with a naughty twinkle in her eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing… Just trying to imagine how you will show up.”

“You may have a say in that. Any preferences?”

“Hmmm… not really. Just surprise me. Just do your best I would say. And don’t forget to wear a skirt.”

“I promised already, don’t worry.”

I leant back in my chair while she was still sitting on the bureau. We both drank our espresso while I looked at her, admired her, I adored her. No doubt any other guy would have wanted to have her. My fantasies were slightly different in that respect, to say the very least. Although, did I not want to have her too, in a certain way? In a much more absolute way than any normal guy would ever imagine. Is there anything more divine than dreaming?

Freya, goddess of love and war, goddess of fertility and death. A really great goddess has also two sides. Preferably, unlike mere humans, twice.
Finally as every week Freya's day had come, it was Friday. What marvels were to be expected of a day named after such a Lady?

I had made some arrangements with Ben to have the evening off after six o’clock. All had been prepared previously, so I could just drive away. Not to Claudia’s house though.
My little realm had some overseas possessions. Almost a hectare of ground, roughly half forest half meadow. In the centre of the forest there was a little cottage. Living room, two bedrooms, small bathroom and small kitchen, a little attic. Behind it a stable for two or three horses.
I let it in Summer to people who wanted to explore the surroundings with their own horses or used it when we had a lot of visitors e.g. when having some special activities like the annual Pony Camp. It was empty now. I had used it before from time to time for a sorti en femme.

I parked the car and entered the cottage with two bags of clothes and stuff. I took a quick shower and a shave to get rid of my two days old beard. Concealer is great stuff, but it is not magic.

It had taken me several sessions in front of my secret closet to find the perfect combination for tonight. Yes, it is not easy to be a girl…And perfect it had to be!
Xandra always takes care to look well and dress with some style, and for her first dinner invitation it should be really perfect en feminine.

The miniskirt with tight T-shirt high boots and net stockings looked very feminine and sexy. For Alex’ taste perhaps even a little bit too much. It had earned her honks and whistles from the men in the street occasionally.
It is strange, but long ago I thought honking and whistling at girls was rude until guys started honking and whistling at me. What a rush!

But no…it was not the combination for this night. I tried several other combinations and regretted I had never bought a classic black dress. But surely something in my reasonably impressive collection must meet the requirements for such an evening? Eventually I settled for the following. A dark blue jeans skirt, just above the knees, tight by not a real pencil skirt. Black boots, some seven or eight centimeters below the knees, with about six centimeter heels. Black tights. A dark red blouse on top, for which I had the perfect nail polish to match. Over it a broad black belt with a beautifully decorated silver buckle. With a little bit of artificial filling at the right places it looked great.

Next came the long chestnut colored wig I wore during my first encounter with Claudia and a ladies coat in some silver colored fabric just long enough to cover my bottom. A black purse that hung from my shoulder completed that whole.

The jewelry to wear should simple but elegant. Eight centimeter massive silver earrings. A silver necklace and six small silver bracelets on my right wrist; left I added a stainless steel lady’s watch.
There was plenty of time for the make up. So I took my time, both to do it as well as possible and also because I simply enjoyed doing it. Becoming Xandra simply felt good.

In one bedroom there was a closet with a big looking glass on the inside of the door. While waiting for the nail polish to dry I went there to watch the results of my efforts to look fair and see if something extra could still be done.

“Looking glass looking glass on the wall…eh...closet door,
Please tell me what could I do more?”

“My Queen my Queen, there is no doubt, you did it very well,
A perfect lady Xandra is at first and second sight, that is what I can tell.”

Well, that was nicely said! I just wanted to say thanks but he was not yet quite ready.

“For future compliments my Queen, only one advice to head,
At this dinner it is not too much that you should eat.”

Thanks Mirror, I have always felt that only having Ben and Claudia around telling me what to do was not enough. Glad to see that problem fixed.

And what kind of comment was that after all? What was he hinting at? I took a closer look at myself. I was not fat!. Sure, I had a nice ass, but I was supposed to have one! And part of it was just padding. And my B-C cup was also not overdone.
Wait a minute! I was not going to have my evening spoiled even before it began by some retired fairy tale looking glass! There was one major advantage it had over Ben and Claudia, I could close the door...

“Looking glass looking glass on closet door you know I have an important date,
It is almost time to go, I cannot afford to be to late,
I am very sorry, but I just have to close the gate.”

Bang!!

Stupid Mirror. Start to understand now why your previous owner sold you as a bargain.

My nails were dry. I picked up Alex’ clothes and took them with me. Just in case somebody might visit the cottage during the evening. With some fifteen minutes to get to Claudia’s house I would be perfectly on time.
It felt great and strange at the same time for me, Xandra, to visit her, but I was confident I would stand my man.

After being divorced Claudia had moved to a nice house in the centre of a nearby village. There was ample space in front of the house to park the car, but I decided to park it some fifty meters further down the street. There was a small parking lot where, behind some shrubs, it could not be seen from the street.

Ding Dong.
The light in the hall went on. The door was opened.
“Hi Sacha. Come in”

“Hi Claudia.”

She glanced at my outfit. “Looks quite good. Let me take your coat.”

A compliment from her, in this domain!? I felt proud.

“Yes, if you want to see me like this then it has to be perfect.”

She kissed me on my cheek and took my hands and drew me with her.

“Come into the kitchen, we have better light there. I want to see how you look.”

She made a turning movement with her hand and I turned around twice to show her.

“You really did it all, whouw!”

She could not hold her laugh, but there was also disbelief and admiration in her look. She took a very close look at my face.

“You are very good at make up. Who thought you?”

“You would be amazed about all the instructions you can find on You Tube. And experimenting a little bit also helps a lot.”

She slapped her own hips and looked at mine.

“Whap did you do here?”

“Just a little bit of padding to get the right silhouette.”

“And this?” She indicated her own breasts.

“A bra with silicone inlays.”

“Silicone? Hmm.. may I touch it?”

“Sure.”

Touching apparently meant investigating thoroughly.

“They feel quite real.”

“It is all kind of an illusion, but let it at least be a good illusion!”

Mischief glinted in her eyes and a naughty smile appeared on her lips.

“Jump up and down.”

“Ehh, what? Why…?

“Come on! Just do it.”

“Oh nooo…please, this is ridiculous….”

She gave me the I-am-your-best-girlfriend-and-I-would-like-you-to-do-this-for-me-look. Moments later I was jumping up and down. And she burst out into laughter.

“Indeed, they look very real. Even in that respect you look like a girl.”

I put my hands on my hips, looked as self-assured as possible at her and asked:

“Well, what do you say. Do you like it?”

She became serious again. Looked at me from head to foot and contemplated her answer for a moment.

“I am not sure. “I mean, sure you did a great job. It is hardly possible to tell you are a guy. And your choice of clothes and everything testifies of good taste. I appreciate what you did to comply with my request.
But it is also strange to see my best friend like this. It confuses me. And I am not sure if I like it….”

“Shall I change back then?”

“No!! Don’t!!”

“So, that means you do like it?”

“Well, it is kind of cute and it certainly has class, I admit that. And I suppose I have to get used to it anyway now that I know that you are a cross dresser, don’t I?”

Those are the remarks that make good friends stand out from the rest. Now it was my turn to kiss her on the cheek

“Just one more question. Do you have any suggestions to improve it? Make it more convincing?”

“Hmm. I think you did already pretty well. Let me think it over. Perhaps I can eventually suggest a few things, but right now I would not really know.”

“What about our dinner?”

“That makes two questions. Give me a few more minutes to put everything into the oven, and then some 20 minutes for the pizzas to be ready.”

Pizzas. I loved pizzas. And from what I saw in the kitchen she had prepared home made ones especially for me.

“Shall I dress the table in the meantime?”

“If you want, you know where to find everything.”

I went into the living groom. In the centre was a big table for six persons. In the right hand corner were two couches and the TV, in the left hand corner was a bureau with the telephone and computer.
I dressed the table according to all the rules of the art, including six candle holders.
I was about ready when Claudia came in.

“They are in the oven.”

She saw the results of my work, apparently very pleased.

“Shall I uncork the wine?”

“Excellent idea Sacha.”

I handed her her glass of wine. “Cheers!”

“You know…” she said as we sat down on the couch, sounding philosophical, “…what would a normal guy have done?”

I was about to protest that I was a normal guy. But somehow, looking at her painted nails, Xandra told me to keep my mouth shut up. I gave her a questioning look instead.

“He would have sat down here, turned on the TV and shouted into the kitchen, honey can you bring me a beer! And he would not have moved a finger to help. So, that is one of the little details in which you are different.”

She smiled at me.

“And some of these little differences I like a lot.”

If she said so.
The caveman gene must still be much more widespread than I would have ever deemed possible in modern society. It gave me a nice and warm feeling inside to know that I was not a caveman. Which was after all also all the better for me. Imagine running after mammoths in my tight skirt and heels. And even if I would catch one, it would never fit into my purse to take it home for the barbecue.

“….. details to improve your presentation.”

My thoughts about the diner preparations of our ancestors had been so absorbing that I had missed what Claudia was saying.

“Sacha, are you with me?” Well, I was now anyway.

“Eh just listening, please continue.”

“For a start, why don’t you wear some rings? Most women do, so if you want to look like one…”

“I know, but lady rings are just all just too small for me. And I think it looks better without that putting on men’s rings.”

“OK, I see. Hmm, I think you should wear some and I think I know a place where it is possible to get them. I will help you with that, don’t worry.”

Who even thinks about worrying with a manager who so well takes care of all?

“Then you only have one pair of ear holes. Look…”

She pushed her long dark blond hair back to clearly show me she was wearing two pairs.

“… hardly any girl these days has only one pair. I suggest you have at least one extra pair done.”

Well, that thought had already occurred to me from time to time. But it seemed not that important. And after all, as a woman I normally wore long hair wigs, so it was difficult to see how many earrings I was wearing anyway. So who cares? I clearly was too sloppy in these matters to be a good manager.

Clack, clack. Tic tac, tic tac….

Somebody in heels had just opened and closed the driveway gate and was now heading for the backdoor. Whoever it was, in a moment she would enter via the kitchen door….
And whoever just enters here without asking via the backdoor must be a very good acquaintance of both of us…

I looked at Claudia in despair. Claudia looked at me in despair. It would have looked very funny had it not been so serious.

“I am not expecting anybody.” And off she was to the kitchen to intercept our visitor.

I recognized the voice in the kitchen at the first word it said. Sharon. Claudia’s sister.

“Hi sis, sorry to disturb you at this time. Won’t keep you long. I just wanted to borrow your laminator. It is on the bureau, isn’t it. Don’t bother, I just get it myself.”

So much energy and determination could not be stopped. She rushed into the living room, took the laminator from the bureau and turned around to leave the room again. Only then she saw me sitting at the opposite side of the room.

“Hey, Claudy, you did not mention you had a visitor.”

Somehow it seemed not quite fair to blame Claudy for that in my humble opinion.
She stepped forward towards me and stretched out her hand.

“Hi, I am Sharon, Claudy’s sister. Nice to meet you.”

From the corner of my eyes I could catch a glimpse of Claudy standing in the door, panic written all over her face.

With horses the Contingency Plan generally is to run away as fast as possible. Surely I could come up with something better than a dumb animal? A prayer! Yes!

Oh Master of the Underworld, Prince of Darkness, Lord of Evil.. Remember that I hardly ever go to church. I often drink too much, I swear, I scold at my horses and I cheated on my tax declaration. Even more than once! And if the situation were not so urgent I am sure that I could come up with a lot more... This is the moment to punish me. I deserve it. Open the gates of your Realm and let the earth swallow me right now.
As so often justice failed.

Hence, I got up and stretched out my hand towards her. Hers was soft, two sizes smaller than mine. So feminine. I noticed the difference, so should she…? I took great care to shake her hand as ladylike as I could. Sharon was standing just in front of me, in a reasonably well lit room, looking directly at my face. I felt my heart beating, my throat felt hot and dry…

“Eh..hi.. Xandra, friend of Claudia’s, pleasure is mine.” I managed in a voice that was at least not too deep and masculine, without sounding like Mickey Mouse either.
And then, nothing happened.

“I am sorry, I am really very much in a hurry now. We talk a little bit more next time, OK?”

She waved at me.

“Bye Xandra, bye sis. Have a nice evening together!”

The tornado left the same way it had come. Tic tac tic tac, clack clack and silence.

Claudia and I watched each other in upper amazement. Then together we burst out in hilarious laughter and dropped down on the couch. We laughed so long and so much that it hurt.

“What a joke! Sharon introduces herself to you and does not read you! Congratulations Xandra, you just passed the practical test for being a woman cum laude.”

“Yes, she did not even notice I altered my voice. I thought it sounded awfully artificial.”

I think we would still be sitting there laughing, if not the oven’s alarm clock had gone off at that moment to tell us that our diner was ready.

Claudia went to get it. I lit the candles and dimmed the electrical light. The pizzas were superb. The ones with salami and these small very spicy peppers. Just love them! The wine was very good, the conversation was, and last but not lease the company.
It was only a pity we did not have an open fire place to add to the romantic atmosphere. With of course an artificial polar bear skin lying in front of it.
Only about three or four weeks after that it struck me that Claudia looked somewhat out of place. She wore a kind of comfortable house suit, a white one with the kind of watch Salvador Dali painted printed on front of it, in stead of something elegant.
But at that moment neither the artificial polar bear nor the house suit mattered at all.

“By the way, are you still interested in more suggestions to look more feminine?”

“Sure. Do you have more then? A shorter skirt perhaps?” I joked.

“No, that is only a variation. I mean something new.”

“OK, let’s hear it!”

“What about something quite feminine that can be done easily, does not cost a lot, can be used in various ways and can be combined with the rest of your outfit as it suits you? But it will perhaps take a little but of courage to do so…Perhaps you don’t dare to…”

“Sounds nice. But it must be quite special if you think it takes more courage than what I am doing already. What is it?”

“I was thinking you might have your nose pierced.”

At least she managed to surprise me. I never taught about it and did not know right away what to say.

“Eh… you really think so?”

“Yes, I think it would look nice.”

“If so, why don’t you wear a nose stud yourself?”

“I am not really the type for it, but Xandra is according to me. I think she should try it.”

It occurred to me that Claudia must have recently bought shares in the jewel industry. All propositions so far clearly indicated this. The next proposition was no doubt going to be a navel piercing. It was feminine, sure, but perhaps a little bit more than I cared for at the moment…

“I see. Perhaps you are right. There is however one little problem. If Xandra gets it done, Alex also has to wear it for several weeks, and I doubt if he wants to do that.”

“You have a point there. Perhaps you can have it done during some holiday? Or we have to come up with a special way of doing it? A friend of mine at high school somehow managed despite that her parents forbade it. I could ask her what she did if you want me to.”

Perhaps this was a nice new and interesting idea, and perhaps things were going awry. I was not sure about it yet. And I did neither want to disappoint her nor to be called coward.

“Perhaps your school mate used the clip-on or magnetic ones? I could try those too and we can see if it is an asset or not.”

She smiled and gave me a look full of admiration.

“Sacha, that is a great idea. Sometimes you are a real genius.”

It was time to change the subject before she would continue about the navel piercing and God knows what else. And here no closing closet doors was going to save me…

“Thanks, but I really did not invent them myself. By the way, you are a great cook. It was delicious!”

“I know, but I never get tired of hearing it again. What did you say again…?”

She sat back, took a sip of wine and said:

“And there is Italian ice-cream for dessert.”

That one was not home made but simply bought at the supermarket. It was nonetheless delicious as well. To tell you a secret, I love ice-cream. I had two portions. What looking glass…?

“You know…”

No I did not, but that was not a problem, she would tell me anyway.

“…this has been such a nice evening, what about a finishing it with digestive evening walk at the park?”

An excellent idea. We put the dirty dished in the dishwasher. Claudia changed for a pair of jeans, a sweater and sneakers in such a short time that she might have won the Olympics for getting dressed easily and off we were.

Claudia held my coat out for me.

“May I assist you with your coat Milady de Winter?”

“You are a real gentleman. You would have made an excellent musketeer.”

“Hmmm… now you come to mention it, I have always wanted to have a hat with a feather on top of it.”

We went out laughing and joking, took her car and drove off into the night.

Clearly we were driving the wrong way. At least it was not the way to any park I knew about. No doubt this was going to be some special surprise for me. I kept silent, just waiting for what was going to come. At least I could be reassured that the local piercing shops were closed at this hour of the night…
Claudia parked on a small parking strip in front of some houses and opposite a long three meter high wall.

“This is not the park.”

“Sure it is honey, there are trees in it as you can see.”

That was true. There were trees. Beautiful old trees could be seen over the wall. We were standing in front of the Old Grave Yard. It dated from mid eighteenth century and had been in use till just after World War Two.
It had these beautiful old trees, shrubs and other green stuff, broad alleys, different styles of graves, many with lots of ornaments. It looked mostly very much end nineteenth century. But it was not, as you might have expected, the scary décor for a Halloween picture. It was a very attractive place actually. It had class and style. And since a couple of years it was a municipal monument and had been under restoration.

“How do you call a park with dead people in it?”

“Look. There are parks where you can rent rowing boats, rent horses, visit a restaurant, look at sculptures and many other things. Parks are often very multifunctional, you know. And that does not keep them from being a park in the least. It amazes me that you don’t know that. And this is just a park with some dead people lying around.”

I rested my case.

“But it is closed now. Do you want to climb the wall or what?”

“The service entrance is never closed. Come.”

She was right and a moment later we were inside.

“You come here so often that you know that?”

“From time to time. It is a place where I can relax and find my inner self. Especially after closing hours.”

I had been there myself once or twice, but never at this time. The place was relaxed, it was not to be denied. And it was not surprising after all, with so many relaxed inmates.
Nonetheless, it seemed a curious habit…

By now we had reached the central alley. We turned right, passed the sepulchral of the local bishops and stood now in front of the central chapel.

“I never understood what it meant.” Claudia said, pointing at the text written over the gate.

Beati mortui qui in Domino moriuntur. And in smaller letters underneath Apoc XIV — 13.

Although I had never done any Latin classes, Alex fortunately had.

“Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord from now on.”

It is from the Apocalypse, just a few lines beyond the much more famous mentioning of 666 as the Number of the Beast. Not that I knew that then, Alex looked it up later…

“Ah, you always know everything!”

She took my arm, pressed herself against me and we walked further, arm in arm. I smelled her hair, felt her warmth. Could it be that one day we would be like all those around us?

We came to the most famous couple of graves.

The place is divided into Catholic, Protestant and Jewish areas and on part for the special cases, like suicides and atheists. All with a wall around them. And then a big wall around the whole cemetery.
Of course religious narrow-mindedness is not a modern invention, already then it dictated that you should be buried in the appropriate part and decidedly nowhere else.

So a catholic baroness and a protestant colonel, husband and wife, were buried in their specific enclosures at the end of the nineteenth century.
The lady was smart and her love overcame these narrow-minded rules, at least in a certain way. She choose the places of their graves next to the wall intended to separate Catholics and Protestants for eternity.
From each gravestone a stone hand stretches out at the rear side, over the wall to the other, meeting halfway. I guess it was more like that that the Great Spirit actually had meant it to be rather than artificial separations mankind invented.
We stood looking at the grave of the baroness.

“You know the story…?” She nodded.

“It is beautiful, no? So very romantic…” I nodded.

She took my arm a little bit tighter and we remained there for several minutes, absorbed in our thoughts.
Then we continued our walk, in a silence that said more than words can ever express.

We came to an opening in the wall, clearly once there had been a gate. We had to stoop down because it was quite a low gate. We descended three steps. We were at the Jewish part now.

Seemed they took better care of their dead than the Christians. The graves were generally very well taken care of. Many even with gilded texts on the stones.
Strange to remark that some names on the stones were also gilded, as if there was nothing wrong with them at all. Auschwitz, Birkenau, Treblinka… Alex had visited Auschwitz. Only reading the name made me already shiver…

We went back and now walked along the outer wall of the Catholic part. Here were the graves for the poor people. And also those of the young children and those that were already dead on birth. Some were sixty or seventy years old, and still being taken care of. Some brother or sister, still taking care of a brother or sister after so many years?
Some had been abandoned long since. Texts faded, stones felt over.

One grave had a small stone on top of it, perhaps only forty centimeters high. On top sat two marble angels. One had fallen off and lay with his neck broken in front of the stone. To remember our little son that we would have liked so much to know it said on the stone. Underneath only one single date.

Claudia had once lost a child and never had any others.
I knew what she was thinking about when we stood there and watched. I knew why she came here at these untimely hours and where she went then. Alex was far, very far away.
There were two women standing next to each other, holding each other. One who had lost a child, the other knowing she would never have one. And all those others that had been long before us and that were still there. We mourned together, found comfort in sharing, not hindered neither by time nor death.
I felt she was crying. It was not Alex who comforted her, nor did she comfort Alex.

We had become girlfriends, overnight so to say, at the most unlikely of places.

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I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

A special word of thanks to my dear friend Lora Guy for commenting on the beta-version in such a swift and professional way.

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Karin Beyaert