Tales from the Old Mills

By Oldmills

Full Moon (Vollmond) Rising...

....behind me on my left is the new Dolce e Gabbana shop.
....in front of me a cold Vollmond.
....below me the Liammat River, infested with swans and not a submerged shopping trolley to be seen.
....across from me the Trade Guild halls dating back centuries.
....too close to me, perched and preening on the river wall, a dangerously loud (for him) mid- twenties American who insists on providing every detail of his previous love affairs to the pretty young lady accompanying him.

If she is not actually an inmate of the Zurich Deaf-Mute Finishing School For Beautiful Mid-European Teenagers, then I might have to step over there and push that Penn State fucker off that wall into the rushing waters below, doing both her and the rest of the riverside cafes clientele a favour. The Swiss swans, well accustomed to swallowing bottom-feeders, will make a proper meal of him.

....but beside me, the finest tourguide this side of the Alps restrains me, and takes me home.

It was one hell of a day.

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