The Manuscript

The queue at the post office didn't move at all. Heike moaned in annoyance when she saw the old woman emptying her purse onto the counter and slowly beginning to count her coins. It felt like hours had passed when the staff member swept the money off the counter and helped the lady to put it back in her purse. Finally, also this was done.

After the woman had inconveniently tucked the two stamps in her pocket and rammed her walking aid into the man's foot behind her – he took it like a real hero – only two other people had to be served before it was Heike's turn. Now they were preceding faster.

Half an hour after she stepped into the post office, she could finally hand over her five big brown envelopes. Once again, she renewed her attempts to successfully deliver one of her manuscripts to a publishing house. The fourth manuscript. She still belonged to the hunters and gatherers among writers – she hunted a contract of publication, but only gathered denials.

She put the receipts of the registered mails in her bag very carefully and sent a silent prayer that it would eventually come about a contract, when she turned to the exit.

Through the glass door she could see that it had started to snow. What is it, that impresses people so much about white Christmas? She turned the collar of her brown quilted jacket up, checked on the right place of her Norwegian cap, put on her gloves, and fearlessly threw herself into the snow storm.

Usually, she only needs ten minutes to walk back home, but the weather was not on her side that day. The wind blew the snow at full tilt, which turned into icy crystals and pricked her uncovered face. She reached the front door forty minutes later than usual and opened it. , She was chilled to the bones.

„Good morning, Ms Hannemann.“ The postman who had just thrown the letters into the postboxes was smiling at Heike. “Today, there’s something for you as well. It’s in your box already. I wish you a merry Christmas.” He waved at her once again, and left the house, whistling happily. He had a blithe spirit that couldn’t be disturbed by anything, not even a blustery snow storm.

„Merry Christmas. And please drive carefully!“, she called after him and fished, with her stiff fingers, the two envelopes out of the postbox.

Hm... Two thin envelopes, publishers' mails! She sighed. Well, two denials again! She plodded up the stairs to her flat on the second floor.

After she had put her wet clothes in the bathroom to dry, she let herself fall on the beige-coloured living room couch with a sigh and opened the letters.

„Dear Ms Hannemann,“ she read the letter. „Unfortunately do we not see a possibility to include your project in our publishing programme...“ Heike grabbed at the black suitcase next to the couch and tacked the rejection letter to the others.

The second letter looked just the same.

„Dear Ms. Hannemann. Unfortunately did your Manuscript not convince us...“ And off it goes to the rest of the rejections.

She flicked through the file. There had been quite a number of letters. She sighed. This time -again- had she been sure that the Manuscript pleased them. Also her „Beta-Slaves“, among them two linguists, who always judged her work very critically, held the opinion that she had definitely hit the taste of the fantasy-publishers.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. During the last days she had slept very uneasy. The same dream struck her every night. And time and again she wanted to make a story out of it. The ring of the doorbells pulled her out of the musing and she got up with a sigh. In front of the door stood three men, unknown to her. They looked very strange in their long black gowns and dark sun glasses. Who is wearing sun glasses in a snow storm or a dark corridor, anyway? They must be lunatics. Damn! She thought. I haven’t closed the door chain.

„Yes, please?“ She decided to get rid of those men as quickly as possible, and got ready to shut the door right in front of their noses.

„Ms Hannemann? Heike Hannemann?“

She nodded. Before she could do anything, the man's hand shot to her wrist and held it tightly. Her vision blurred immediately and she felt herself fade away.