All Chapters of On The Verge Of Desperation: Chapter 21 - Chapter 28

Robert leaned back relaxed in the comfortable seat and fell asleep, there was a monotonous hissing in his ears. He felt slight vibrations in his feet when the stewardess touched his shoulder lightly and wanted to know what he wanted to eat. He blinked at her tiredly, opting for roast beef with croquettes. Flight OS 417 had started punctually in Schwechat and the machine was just in the middle of the Atlantic, at the height of the Cape Verde Islands, as he could see on the monitor. I thought, actually great, how aviation has changed. In the past you always sat cooped up in the narrow tubes of Douglas DC 9, and during the flight you never really knew exactly where you were at the moment.

Two years later. Robert's mission at Mendez Cooper Enterprise was accomplished and he basked in success. For him, the time passed by in a flash. He was fully absorbed in his work and had little, if any, private life. Except for the one week when he stayed as a wedding guest on Juanita's plantation and only really noticed how violently and colorfully weddings are celebrated in Latin America. In between he took a few days off, which he then spent in picturesque places on the coast.

Multi-Kult-Colors Offensive suddenly set in. Roberts countermeasures caught them in the process of preparation. Massive advertising for the new paint products was suddenly everywhere and always present. The dealers' warehouses were overflowing with multi-cult colors, as Robert already knew. For van Sweeten, the world had to be perfectly fine now, he thought to himself. The original plan to initially only lead the competition based on price and conditions had to be abandoned without further ado, as it was far too late for that.

The weather god, didn't mean it well with Vienna. It stormed and trickled, old newspapers and dead leaves whirled through the air. You could tell from the disgruntled faces of the passers-by, clutching their hats, that there were already the first autumn storms. Which now apparently went to the kidneys. Robert stood on the twelfth floor of the Hilton, at the window of his spacious, modern, furnished place, and looked down at the street. In the good hope of seeing a taxi pull up that Christine would get out of.