Battle of the Rhine

Michael received two letters on Monday when the cold had overwhelmed him.His nose was completely blocked and he could only breathe through his mouth.The concierge delivered the letters to him. Checking the postmark, one of them arrived on Saturday.Michael sneezed several times, his eyes blurred with tears.The porter smiled and said, "It's time for you to marry a wife!"

"No, no," Michael waved his hand feebly, "Oh—"

A letter came from the United States, and a corner of the envelope was crumpled due to the long distance.It's Mary. Michael opened the envelope with shaking hands, and pulled out several pieces of letter paper.Mary wrote a lot, mostly complaining about him.Michael read the second half of the sentence and forgot the first half.The cold medicine destroyed his mind, which was not very bright, but there was a passage that impressed Michael deeply: "You always do this...let others think that you love others, but you don't love at all. You are a selfish person." stupid ass, Mike."

Not bad at all.If it weren't for the cold, Michael would definitely have transcribed this sentence immediately.Finally, Mary asked him about his progress, and whether my dear Karna reconsidered marrying to the United States after the divorce. "No," muttered Michael, "your dear Karna is married to a Frenchie and wears trendy dresses...he hates me so much I'm never going to bother him again..."

The second letter, the Saturday one, was without the sender's name and address.Michael wiped his eyes, tears streaming down his face, as if he had just rubbed onion sauce into them.He opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. Through tears, he saw red corrections all over the page.Michael checked the envelope again, and sure enough it was postmarked in Munich.Quincy probably posted it when he was out on Friday.Why go to Stuttgart?Michael held the letter paper and wiped his tears with his sleeve. If he went to Munich, he would never meet a college student on a business trip; if he hadn’t met him, he wouldn’t have invited him to dinner, and he wouldn’t have made him angry… He thought to himself again , why not buy that scarf?Not unaffordable either.His stinginess for a moment did something stupid that he regretted for the rest of his life.Michael raised his head, trying to control his tears, but the damn liquid didn't listen to the brain's command at all, and flowed out.

"Fuck," Michael said to himself, "I want to die..."

He lay down and pressed the two letters under his pillow.The sun shines through the glass and hits the bed.The room was genuinely warm, and Michael sank into the quilt and quickly fell asleep.

Why people don't hibernate is one of the questions that puzzled Michael since he was a child.He learned about hibernation from nature courses, and he also dug up hibernating snakes in the wild.If only people could hibernate, and whenever winter came and Michael had to get up to go to class or work, he fell back into the myth.How awesome he would be if he were a bear!Pick up all kinds of food in autumn, eat fat and strong, and then find a comfortable cave to get into, curl up in a ball, and have a good sleep.When I wake up again, spring has come to the earth.He can jump into the stream to wash his body fur, and then catch a few fish to fill his stomach——

The glare of the sun woke Michael up.He got up and found himself in a clean and tidy room.It was time to go to work. Michael hurried to wash his hands. When he looked up in the mirror, he was shocked to see that his temples were gray and fine wrinkles accumulated at the corners of his eyes.There seems to be nothing wrong.He went out like this, and there was a nice car parked under the apartment building.Intuition told him that it was his car.Michael opened the car door with the key conjured out of thin air, and was soon driving on the clean highway.He works in a very large company, and everyone is respectful when they meet him.This is so funny, Michael thought, I need a coffee to pick me up, and all of a sudden there's a cup of coffee that seems to pop right out of nowhere.

"I'd like another currywurst," Michael said.

Currywurst also appeared, piping hot.Michael tried to make other requests, all of which were fulfilled. "Do I have superpowers?" He rubbed his fingers excitedly, "Or, have I become a god?"

"You can have anything you want." A voice rumbled, "I can make it happen for you except one."

"I want money, lots and lots of money."

Bundles of dollar bills filled the table, but it wasn't enough to satisfy Michael. "I hope that the damned Article 175 of the German law will be amended." A copy of the German criminal law fell on the pile of banknotes. Michael flipped through it, and was delighted to see that the annoying law had been deleted.

"Then I have nothing to worry about," he yelled. "I need my college students! Karl von Quinnessy! We don't have to be afraid anymore..."

"No," the rumbling voice refused, "only this can't be done."

"Why?" Michael stood up in doubt, holding the German criminal law, "I need him! Everything I do is for him—"

"Because he's dead," said the voice. "It's 1990, Mike, have you forgotten? Quincy shot himself by the Rhine back in 1956. You lost him completely."

"1990?" Michael raised his hand in astonishment, and saw that his smooth hands were rapidly aging, covered with wrinkles and age spots, and a mirror appeared. The hair of the person in the mirror was all white, as old as a dried walnut. "God..." He covered his face with his wrinkled hands, "Have all these years passed..."

Time is so fast, never wait. The spring of 1945 seemed like yesterday, Michael half-opened his eyes, and Quincy’s youthful appearance emerged in his mind—that field gray military uniform with a flared neckline, revealing a section of white shirt collar.Although the fierce battle had just ended, he still maintained a clean posture, the light enveloped him, he was like an angel...

"Oh, what can I do," Michael murmured, his neck sore, "I haven't had time to tell him yet..."

It was just a dream, he remembered.There is no 1990, it is still very early, and he may not be able to survive until then.It is the winter of 1956, and the snow is about to fall. "Christmas market," Michael squirmed his lips, "get a Christmas tree...don't forget the mistletoe..."

He fell asleep again.This time he slept on a sofa.It's not a great sofa, the armrests are stiff as hell.Michael was half asleep and half awake, always feeling that there was something he hadn't done yet.It may be work, he needs to save some money.Mary was right, a rich old bachelor could always get by, and if he had no money he was bound to live on the streets.Work, Michael moved his finger. Fortunately, he owns a farm. If it is impossible to sell the farm, the little money can make do with it for a while...

Ah, this is his home, the farm house.The sofa needs to be replaced with new cushions, softer ones.When he woke up, he drove to the city immediately... At this moment, there was a slight movement in the kitchen, and Michael tried to turn his face sideways, only seeing a vague golden shadow.

"Are you off work?" Michael subconsciously said, "No overtime today?"

"No." Shadow said, his voice seemed to be separated by water mist.

"Do you work overtime tomorrow?"

"Do not."

"Retire tomorrow, let's go to Switzerland? Call Xiali and ask her and Franz if they want to go together?"

"Ah."

Shadow was busy, his back straightened.What year is it now?Michael couldn't tell. 1956? 1950? 1975? ... "Oh," he sighed heavily, "I love you," he said, in German, "Karl, I love you."

Shadow didn't answer.Michael waited for a long time, slowly stretching his sore eyelids.His nose hurt like hell, and he blew it hard, thankful that he was still in 1956, that his college student was still alive, and that he was being looked after by a Frenchie who graduated from medical school.

"Thank God..." Michael knelt down while supporting his weak body, "Please..."

Does God really exist?Maybe it exists, maybe it doesn't exist.Michael firmly believed in the power of God, but God seemed to reject him—after all, he loved a man of the same sex deeply and had done so many unforgivable bad things.

On Wednesday, Michael's cold was still not getting better.He asked the visiting "spoon" to help him buy some food and piled it on the small wooden table in the kitchen. "Spoon" even bought a bottle of red wine, and vowed that to deal with a cold, he only needs to heat up the red wine, drink it and sleep, and he will be cured the next day.

"Unless I want to die faster." Michael was weak.

He drank a cup of hot milk, and although he had no appetite, he gritted his teeth and ate a piece of soft bread with canned pea soup.When he was about to rest after eating, there was a knock on the door, and the porter said that there was a "very energetic" gentleman downstairs who wanted to see Michael.

"not see."

"He's from Munich."

Munich!Michael’s drowsiness disappeared, and he hurriedly agreed.Within a few minutes, there was a knock on the door, and Michael excitedly opened the latch, but what greeted him was an angry fist.