This short story is only available in German.
Afrodite looked across the living room, as evening light entered through the small window.
Her suitcases were fully packed and waiting by the door.
The old clock on the wall showed 5.45, and in the silence of the room, its gentle tik-tak sound had a huge impact in her worrying mind.
She had less than 30 minutes to leave her apartment and grab a taxi to the airport.
Afrodite stood up with a sigh and opened the drawer of the big wooden furniture that was part of the house she was living all her adult life, god bless her grandma.
Her hands touched the small package wrapped around in a brown paper. She felt the weight of it in her sweaty palm. 1 kilo, more or less, she thought.
9-year-old Amira is a typical child in many respects. To say she is just like every other 9-year-old would go a long way to explain why her grandfather had suggested she would be perfect for what they needed.
Her dark hair, almost black but willing to reveal the deepest of browns in the correct light, hangs long and straight, and had she the time it would have soon been possible for her to sit on it. Today, it frames her face, giving her what would have been described as an angelic countenance, but angelic is the least appropriate adjective considering her current situation.
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