Herr TopHat and New Accommodation

 So the story goes…

I have been compelled to abandon my charming little apartment above the Keller. Apparently jazz at ungodly hours does wonders for the soul but very little for one’s nerves. And, as my RL driver so dryly informed me, the place possessed “too few prims,” which I assume is modern slang for “architectural insufficiency.” One never argues with the woman who holds the (virtual) steering wheel.

Thus I have relocated to the in-famous Hof.

Now, before you gasp into your teacups, allow me to present the advantages:

First — I reside at floor level. This is significant.  It opens thrilling prospects for enterprise. A lady with a door directly onto the street is a lady with possibilities. Interpret that as you will.

Second — I am in delicious proximity to dear Dorothy, and directly opposite Gyna’s most extravagant sky-level residence. She remains suspended above us mere mortals in the finest building in town, heroically sustaining herself through her writing. I admire this greatly, though I suspect she also enjoys looking down upon us — artistically, of course.

Third — I have entirely forgotten number three. It's escaped me mid-sentence and fled into the ether. Ah! But wait — it returns!

I now live beside a new Berlin resident: Herr TopHat. A fellow American, no less. And another writer. Though where I dabble in prose, he appears to flirt shamelessly with poetry. He bears an uncanny resemblance to a rather improved edition of Edgar Allan Poe — handsome, but still carrying that faint air of beautiful doom. One half expects a raven to deliver his post.

He is delightfully witty, very pleasant in conversation, and mercifully does not rehearse tragic monologues at dawn. This alone makes him an excellent neighbor.

There are, of course, other novelties unfolding in town, but a lady must preserve some mysteries — and her typing fingers.

I leave you with a few photographs of Herr TopHat for now.

May your Sunday be restful, mildly scandalous, and accompanied by excellent spirits.

Küsse 

Conniexx