I was listening to Casablanca by Bertie Higgins from my computer remembering the memories attached to that particular song while arranging books in my soon to be overflowing bookcase in my office, sorting them out by color and color lettering on the spines when accidentally I knocked off a much loved, much treasured Guus Flater figurine of my reason-for-living-in Europe. It is part of his most prized possessions, something he’s collecting since time immemorial. Now it’s lying broken on the floor.
What would I do now? Pack my bags? Hide the broken pieces and pretend it never happened? He never looks in that bookcase, with luck he will never find out his darling is missing. If I don’t say something, he will continue to believe that the figurine is still there, safe and sound. But that’s lying. I don’t lie. At least not for that reason. What to do, what to do?