i am starting a blog.
Once upon a time, in a small village on the shore of a river, some few hundred miles from Zurich, there lived a small girl attending a small university. The school was very small indeed but had many quiet and secret places. There were gardens to view, and a tree to read under. There was a creaky boat at the dock: that grew moss in the spring, and a mound of snow in the winter. There were specialists to take care of the grounds: the indoor, and the outdoor. And a man of no particular title who took care of a small pool in the garden for a goldfish named George.
Oceans away, there was a man by the name of Godfrey, whom the girl had imported for a time, together with a a new bottle of perfume which he had promised to supply her. Godfrey was a fine man of considerable polish, like the sparkling new bottle of perfume briefly in his care as he crossed the oceans to be with the girl.
Both Godfrey and the bottled perfume predicted as they flew over several masses of land that the girl would be the last they would touch.
The two- Godfrey and the girl- not the bottle and Godfrey- fell in love on the eve of his departure. It was under a sky filled with stars and a bone chilling wind that swept through the streets and under their clothes. Godfrey held the girl to keep her from cold and to keep himself from kneeling on one knee.
Time passed and they were wed. They had a child and moved into a smallish apartment. Smaller still than the girl or the apartment they shared was the tiny baby born to them whom they named Matilda.
Life was pleasant among the Godfreys, for this was as close to heaven as one could get on this side of the continent.