Greta Again! Read Online Free PDF

dumbfounded. Speechless. What had she gotten herself into? She had never had anything to do with drugs, even at a distance. This was really weird.  First of all, she tried to calm herself. I have no idea about this kind of thing, and apparently neither does Mike , she thought. But Greta wasn’t entirely positive that was the case. She wanted to believe Mike so much, but something was holding her back.
                Finally her appetite returned. She had only taken two bites out of the very yummy brioche but she didn’t want to stay at the café any longer. She needed “her own” New York.  As she slipped on her knit jacket, Carlos came over to the table to ask how everything was.
                “It was great, Carlos. Thank you so much.”
                “You look so worried and sad, Ma’am. I hope it’s nothing bad between you and Mike?”
                “Oh, no, Carlos, of course not.” Greta tried to sound upbeat. “But sometimes life is really crazy, don’t you think? And I’ve never been all that good at understanding men.”
                “Yeah, I think you’re right, Mike is a little crazy and he certainly has secrets that we don’t know about. But crazy friends are true friends.  There’s nothing fake about them.”
                Carlos cleared the table and went back to his counter. “See ya later,” he called out, and waved good-bye.
                Now Greta was even more confused than before.
                Mike had secrets?
                And “crazy friends are true friends?”
                Oh, right, I can make a lot of sense out of that. . .
                Her cell-phone buzzed.
                Thank heavens!
                A message from Mona: “Is everything okay? Do you have time for a snack during my lunch hour?”
                Perfect!
                Greta agreed to meet Mona in the afternoon, and until then she could wander around town a little bit. A stop at the Guggenheim Museum would be a good idea – that would change the course of her thoughts.
                The sun was high in the sky and warmed up the day as Greta strolled through the streets, taking her time. She passed a group of young guys playing basketball—completely in their element, as if they were in a TV sitcom: hooting, laughing at dirty jokes, having fun with friends-- all was right with their world. Why can’t I meet someone like that? she thought to herself. Why did it have to be Mike? I want a normal guy . But there probably aren’t any of those, the little voice in her head replied.
                The visit to the Guggenheim was a good diversion. A Picasso exhibit there was especially inspiring. The colors, the odd placement of forms that then seemed to fit together perfectly—Greta dived wholeheartedly into the world of art. What would a reddish-brown or a lilac smell like if it were a scent? she asked herself.  Finally it wasn’t about Mike and his strange story about drugs. Greta was in New York, after all, her favorite city! And she felt that she had finally arrived – the very familiar feeling that New York always aroused in her had , thank heavens, finally been rekindled:  the freedom to be a little crazy, a little strange, independent, and yet a part of the whole. To belong. To be free.
                It was noon when she left the museum, two hours until she was to meet Mona. She wanted to stop at a café and contact Munich on Facebook before then. She found a comfortable, chic café not far from the museum and sat down at a small table near a window. A young waiter came to take her order right away, and Greta busied herself with her Smartphone. She logged onto Facebook, picked up her messages, and sent one to her best friend about how things were in the city. Nathalie would no doubt be dumbfounded by the whole story too. It