Agnes

Excuse me? I've just got a couple of pages.

Go ahead.

Thanks.

"Sorry, I can't make it tonight. Louise"

Hi.

Hi.

Do you often work in the library?

Yes.

I'm writing a non-fiction book.

German industries of the Wilhelminian Era.

Are you interested in that?

Yes, I think so.

I like libraries.

You won't be disturbed there.

By People like me?

My name is Walter.

Agnes.

It must be two streets ahead.

A friend recommended it to me.

I bet you know the place.

I don't go downtown very often.

Has anyone called for an ambulance?

It's on the way.

Did she fall over?

I don't know.

She just laid there.

Let's go.

Do you see your family often?

No, my parents don't live here anymore.

They emigrated to Mallorca a couple of years ago.

That's not bad either.

Don't you like it?

She was dead.

Yes. I think so.

I've never seen a dead person before.

I don't think that she suffered.

That's not the point.

As long as a person suffers, they are at least alive.

But if everything is coming to an end, if there's nothing left...

I always try to imagine that as a kind of... peace.

Like if you are finally tired.

And if you aren't tired?!

And if someone dies before being tired, have you ever thought about that?!

Can we go?

Yes, of course.

Can we Pay?

Ok then.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Berliner Allee.

Yes, it isn't set up very well, but it works for the time being.

I'll open a bottle of wine.

Do you believe in life after death?

Excuse me for asking, but...

are you ill?

No.

You don't have to be ill to think about that.

Things just can't go on forever.

That would somehow be meaningless.

But if you...

just disappear does that make sense?

There are still people who remember you.

Is that why you write books?

So that people will remember you?

No, I don't want to live forever.

What time is it?

Just after seven.

Henry was standing at the tracks, which disappeared into the distance in both directions.

He looked to the left and to the right...

and ran ahead."

I wrote that in my mid 20s.

No idea why I took that with me.

Like in the poem by Frost.

Which route a person chooses in life.

Have you also written longer things?

I once started a novel.

But I didn't manage more than fifty pages.

Can I borrow it'?

Sure, if you want to.

I'm sorry that I had to cancel yesterday.

But we'll catch up on it.

Hello.

Anything useable?

No idea.

Don't worry. I'm not in love.

That's my taxi.

Just come back to the office if you need anything.

I've got to go.

See you.

See you.

May I disturb you?

I want to show you something.

Hello.

Hi.

Symmetry is quite deep in almost everything.

The mystery is the emptiness in the centre,

what you can't see

the axis of symmetry.

Life appears rather asymmetrical to me.

Asymmetry always has a reason,

it makes life possible.

The difference between genders, time going in only one direction...

What?

Do you think that's strange?

No, I...

I like it.

How come you stopped?

Stopped what?

Writing.

I do still write.

You know what I mean.

The short stories have been sold exactly 187 times.

That doesn't matter.

Have you read them?

Yes.

I guess... I just didn't have enough to tell.

You could write about me...

what you like about me.

A portrait.

There is no single good picture of me.

If you want to become immortal...

you have to look for a more famous writer.

Bye.

Coffee?

Thanks.

Did you mean that for real?

What?

A girlfriend once broke up with me...

she recognised herself in one of my stories.

Really?

We agreed on that version.

Don't you feel like starting again?

I don't know.

I haven't been writing for years.

In the end we both would be disappointed.

Agnes?

One!

Five!

Six!

Seven!

The first!

You're not in good form!

What was that about?

I wanted to know if you really live on the 7th floor.

“The first time I saw Agnes was at the library, in April this year."

It's good, continue.

How do you want to look like?

So everyone understands that you are falling in love with me.

Oh, am I?

Yes.

I can't write like that.

“Agnes stunned me as she sat in front of me in the reading room."

"Her awkward movements didn't seem to fit well with her slim, almost delicate body."

"Her face was fine-boned and pale."

“We looked at each other for a moment, and I saw her startled blue eyes."

Carry on.

"When she left the reading room, I decided to follow her."

Really, you followed me?

Maybe.

What do you mean "maybe"?

That it might have been.

“We were talking about love and death, before we even knew each other's names."

“She had strong opinions.“

"My cynicism provoked her and when she got upset, she could be strangely harsh.“

You think I'm "harsh"?

Yes. Sometimes.

Or direct.

Some people have told me that.

I never notice that.

And vulnerable somehow.

"A bit, as if she couldn't find the right mix of distance and closeness to life."

It must be two streets ahead.

A friend recommended it to me.

I bet you know the place.

I don't go downtown very often.

Did you move here because of university?

No, I grew up here.

Why didn't you mention the dead woman?

I don't know,

I thought that it would be unromantic.

But she belongs there!

Yes,

you're probably right.

I went to her funeral.

You went to her funeral?

Yes.

But apart from that our story is becoming very beautiful.

You think so?

Where have you been?

Sorry, I was writing.

How's it going then?

I don't know, not good.

Agnes, a second.

You want to join me for the trip to Brussels next month?

You could present your work.

Really?

Yes. You could get lots of suggestions!

She's good, your girlfriend.

But I'm sure you knew that already.

Yes, I know.