Morning Stories

Love is flighty, most of all in its opening stage. Every now and then it remembers itself and goes flighty again. The flutter of butterflies in the belly. The flutter of knees. The fluttery liability of shared birth control.

For fifty years, the family has lived next to the same neighbour. Every morning, a friendly nod across the driveway. They share an access road, a river, a history. Life and community work seamlessly and peacefully. Then one day, a dark cloud appears — one nobody saw coming. The cloud arrives as a document in an anonymous envelope in the mailbox. This single sheet of paper is pure dynamite for the neighbourhood. The document states that you and your family represent a serious and present threat to your neighbour’s interests. Excuse me?

The impact was less hard than expected. But the burning on my cheek was impossible to ignore — and good advice was hard to come by. It felt like a clap in the face. Though this very thing — advice in certain situations — is often an uninvited guest. Or the fifth wheel on the wagon.

He wasn’t suddenly there in the room. He’d been present for quite some time. But nobody wanted to notice Dumbo. Or worse: talk about Dumbo. That would be what you might call an absurdity. An absurdity by the name of Dumbo.

First, there was doubt. The critical looking, the questioning of conditions. The condition of the world. The condition of the soul. Or the condition of the situation.

"Excuse me, what?" When two umlauted vowels land in the same word, things get suspicious — and decidedly Basler. "Wottsch e weeneli im Chläppergässli spaziire, hösch?" (Do you want to go for a walk on Slap Alley?) is a prime example.

Two-edged? Isn't that just standard in the production of a sword? Anyway, the comparison doesn't limp — because the sword hasn't been used yet. Or so I think.

What does "cyranomising" mean? Christian Wehrli explores why Cyrano de Bergerac reveals more about language, love, and communication than any textbook. An essay on Rostand, rhetoric, and the power of words.