A few days ago, I decided it was time to tidy up. Not half-heartedly. Properly. Cupboard by cupboard. Drawer by drawer. I've always believed that when you tidy your home, you're often tidying something inside yourself as well. You sort things out. Memories. Ballast. Perhaps even a small part of who you used to be. My dog

My dog looks at me. Then he tilts his head. I've been talking to myself for what feels like ages. About words. Grammar. Language. He doesn't understand a single thing I'm saying. Or perhaps he understands exactly what matters. My voice. My mood. The fact that I'm thinking. Then he yawns. I take that as a

A few mornings ago, I was out walking my dog, as I do every day, just after five. Lake Zurich lay almost perfectly still. The first light of dawn had caught a few wisps of cloud. A gentle breeze moved across the water. Such peace. Such silence. For a brief moment, it felt as if the world

1 July 2026. 5:00 a.m. The alarm goes off. "Good morning. You are no longer eligible for unemployment benefits. Congratulations." Or at least that's how I imagined it. I honestly expected the sky to split open dramatically on my first day of being "ausgesteuert." Dark storm clouds. Thunder. A booming voice worthy of Philip Maloney announcing my new status. Surely