The Travelling Hornplayer [antikvár]

EUen Des Müllers Blumen Early on the morning of my interview, I woke up and saw my dead sister. I had not seen her for three years. She came into my bedroom, opening and closing the door without a sound. Her hair was bobbed short and she was dressed in plain white cotton T-shirt and knickers. Nothing else. I watched her cross the room on bare feet, and pause to touch the somewhat staid interview clothes that I had laid out on a chair the night before: navy calf-length skirt, navy lambswool jumper, cream silk shirt, paisley sük scarf, best polished boots. She paused again to stroke the foot-end of my duvet. Then she walked on towards the window, where the curtains were drawn shut. While her facial expression in life had been characteristically animated, it was now serene and fixed, üke that of a person sleep-walking. Though she made no sound, she left a five-word sentence behind her in the room. The words were in German. I heard them in her voice but, at the same time, I was aware that the voice was audible only inside my own head: 'Die Sterne stehn t^u hoch' I should explain here that I don't really speak German - that is, not beyond the level of GCSE Grade C - though I knew that I had come across the phrase before, and I knew enough to be able to translate it: 'The stars are too high.' As soon as she had disappeared behind the curtain, I jumped out of bed and went to the window. Nothing was there; only the