Battle of the Rhine

Michael received no reply, as expected.He even doubted whether the letter had actually been sent to the addressee.Even if it did arrive, he wasn't sure if he had written the return address on the envelope.Alcohol paralyzes the brain, and Michael now has to drink beer every day to help him sleep.Compared with German beer, American beer is indeed as dull as tap water.

He wrote this reflection in his next letter.Yes, he sent another letter to Quincy.This time he bought letter paper, pens and ink.The nib of the pen kept piercing the letter paper, and ink blots appeared.Pens are frustrating, old Michael was right, small towns don't deserve such high-end gadgets, pencils are a farmer's best friend.Michael also wrote down this feeling, and finally managed to scrape together a piece of letter paper.

"Dear Carl, it's me, Mike. I don't know if you received the last letter? I guess maybe you didn't even read it and just threw the letter away. It's good to throw it away. The letter is a piece of paper I'm not very good at writing essays. Really, it's too difficult to compare. The weather has been getting colder and colder this past week. I bought a sweater. It's thick and stiff, but it's very warm. Have you changed into a sweater? Even Didn't see my letter and don't forget to wear a sweater. Now I drink beer every day. There is a stout that tastes good. It makes me sleepy. But you don't drink, please. I don't know what to say, I can't write my thoughts, and I can't write beautiful sentences. German is also difficult. I haven't used German for several years, so I forgot all the previous ones. The note I wrote to you last time seems to be written at the end English. Sorry, I will study German seriously. By the way, I bought a pen, which is very difficult to use. You see, there are a lot of ink spots on this paper. Sorry, I will use a ballpoint pen next time. I wish you health Healthy! Love you Mike."

The letter was sent.This time Michael carefully transcribed the address, the sender, the recipient, every word, every letter is clear.After waiting for three days, I did not receive any reply.It would be a lie to say that I am not disappointed, but it is not unreasonable.Quinnessy had no duty or obligation to answer his dull letters, full of nonsense and ink blots, devoid of flowery rhetoric and earnest concern.He should buy a copy of "Encyclopedia of Letters" to study and recite those beautiful and moving sentences.Michael went to the bookstore and bought a copy of "How to Write a Letter", and sat under the lamp after working overtime to read it.Half the book is love letters to lovers, some of which read more like humorous stories.For example, a letter compared his girlfriend to a sweet little cabbage, which makes people want to eat it with cream.Michael drew a circle on the "cabbage" with a ballpoint pen and muttered, "...shit, only the French say that."

He hated the French, hated everything French.Roshua might be a good guy and healed Quincy's throat, but Michael just hated him.That damn Frenchie must have come down from France to run amok in that house over the weekend.Would he call Quincy "Little Cabbage"?Terrible, gross and disgusting.

Michael wrote another letter, this time using a ballpoint pen, and the paper looked much cleaner.

"Dear Carl, hello, I'm Mike. It's really cold, thanks to the heater. Heating is a good thing, isn't it? Thanks to whoever invented it. Do you still work overtime? If you work overtime, you have to pay attention to your health. Remember Fire up the fireplace, or move to the living room to sleep in, I think that would be nice, it would be warm. I joined the workers football club, and learned how to play football. I played badly, and got older and weaker. There was a guy yesterday Remind me, if you drink beer all the time, don't be fat in the future. I guess it's okay, because my dad died skinny. Of course, he was 40 when he died. Not too old. I'm almost 40 , how time flies! I'm sorry, maybe you don't want to hear from me, I'm sorry. Recently the concierge adopted a dog, very small, with ears like I don't know how to say in German. I took a picture and put it on In the envelope, you can see it. Love you Mike."

Michael had bought a new camera, which was less expensive than the old one Quinnessy had given him.He has been looking for that Leica for a long time, but he can't find it anywhere, and it may have been stolen.The porter's dog is a little bigger than the palm of your hand, ignorant, and wags its tail when it sees people.Michael brought him a piece of cold sausage every day, and the puppy regarded him as a friend.Michael took several photos of the puppy and picked the best one and stuffed it into an envelope.The letter was sent with no avail, and he shouldn't have hoped for a reply.He'd hurt Quincy, and college students might want to throw up at the sight of his name.Michael was hesitant to write another letter. With so much letter paper left, he thought about it for half the night and decided to write a few more times.After the new year, he would stop this harassment and get out of Quincy's life completely.

"Dear Carl, I'm Mike. I'm so sorry I'm writing to you again. If you don't want to hear from me, just throw it in the fireplace. It's such a tiresome job! I'm looking forward to my vacation. I I can sleep until noon. This kind of behavior is bad, isn't it? It's a crime to indulge your own depravity, but I need to rest, which is not a crime. Recently, there is a singer in the United States called Elvis Press Li, he sings very affectionately, but the tune is a bit strange. Have you heard his song? By the way, and the young people in the club are still playing football, braving the wind and snow, wearing long sleeves and trousers. They can I really like football! It was the first time I knew that I could play in long trousers. They advised me to play together, but I refused because I was old and my bones hurt from the wind. Also, the puppy has grown up, obviously It's a male dog, but people call him 'little girl' because he's so spoiled. Please take care of yourself! Hat and gloves. Love you Mike."

Michael did not expect to hear back from Munich.There were no bounces, so Quinnessy probably just threw the annoying letters away, or put them in the fireplace.But Michael found writing letters very interesting, and he wrote a letter every other day, writing about the annoying job, the noisy workshop, the quarrels of the workers' club players, the incomprehensible Bavarian dialect, and the "little girl"'s white belly.One week he wrote letters every day, even on Sunday.Young people from the club caught him going to the post office, "Love letter?" asked the kid, a dozen years younger than Michael, his face flushed by the wind.Michael said, "Almost." There was a smirk, as if to say, this funny old guy.

By December, Michael was thinking about Christmas presents.He picked out a beautiful Christmas card, sprinkled with gold glitter.At noon on a Friday in early December, the canteen routinely served unpalatable fish steaks.Michael hid in his office, racking his brains over the advertisements in the newspaper, what should he give——

"Mr. Fiennes!" A black head stuck out, it was the kid from the club, surnamed Hartman, nicknamed "Spoon". "Spoon" knocked on the door, "I want to ask you something." Before Michael could answer, he hurriedly added, "What did you write in your love letter? I thought about it for a long time, and I don't know what to write."

"It's impolite," Michael criticized pretendingly, "If you want to inquire about writing a love letter, you must make an appointment first, and then pay the fee."

"Please," "Spoon" scratched the back of his clean-shaven head, "What are you writing?"

"Write 'I Love You'." Michael put down the newspaper. "That's enough—and don't copy books like The Complete Love Letter."

"Oh, I said it." "Spoon" suddenly realized, "I copied a letter last time, and she was very angry and scolded me. I understand! Thank you, Mr. Fiennes! When I send this Pay the monthly salary!"

After speaking, the young man ran away, as if there was a football waiting for him in front of him.To be honest, Michael envied "Spoon", was young, and liked a girl - there was nothing difficult about this love.He continued to study the advertisement column of the newspaper, and before the end of his lunch break, he decided to buy the most expensive pair of woolen gloves.

There was no place in town that could meet his needs. After hesitating, Michael chose to try his luck in Stuttgart.After get off work, he went to the station to buy a ticket, and then returned to the dormitory.At the door, he was stopped by the "little girl".Michael touched the puppy's head, and after being reminded by the concierge, he found a letter lying quietly in the mailbox.