Flying High. Литагент HarperCollins USD
sunlight and silence that filled the room but the shadow on the glass, though it seemed to fade, did not disappear entirely. Feeling weak and rather frail, Frau Maier turned away towards the window. She pulled up the blinds and pushed the curtain aside so that she could look out. She resented the way the past she had tried to forget, hers and this city’s, still found it so easy to intrude upon the present. In the last ten years since they had pulled the Wall down she seemed, in the most unlikely places, at the most unexpected of times, to be at the mercy of these memories that, unchecked, surged up to overwhelm her. Once she had been able to control them, to limit their excesses and shut out those that she found too painful to bear, but recently, as if out of contempt for her age, faces that she had long forgotten had risen up to either greet or mock her. It was as if the Wall’s demolition had released a host of captive memories that for the twenty-eight years of its existence she had kept locked within her.
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