The journey was long and tiring, expensive coffee on a the motorway up repairing the ageing brain for the remainder of the journey. The motorway stop was just like a reminder of the seventies with various meaty dishes in a display awaiting their final blast in the microwave oven before their being served. Arrival in Cologne and a mishap in a parking garage involving another car and a damage to the other's immaculate paintwork. By the time the police had finished with the case, the first part of the funeral in the church was nearly over. It was still possible to sign the condolence book and to hear the final hymn in the grand old church. Hug many of the closer relatives of the deceased from the standpoint of only being a nephew in the face of all this first order prominence, a family from the upper crust of the city. Here are all the older ladies and gents, all known from the sandpit. And the younger woman who was the uncle's friend and accompanied him intimately for the last ten years of his life.
Return to the car and take the short drive to the cemetery, pausing on the way to buy new shoes for the brother, to replace the dark shoes too small for him. But the shop that was found only stocked small sizes, so there was no success here.
The evening party was an event of some beauty, with all the now aged relatives witnessing the departure of the patriarch.
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