Wait for Me in Vienna Read Online Free

inspect the apartment freely. A spacious, queen-sized bed with a thick mattress like the ones they had in American hotels dominated the small room. She would have been only too happy to plop down on it. She’d always envied the teens from Dawson’s Creek with their huge American beds, but decided against testing out her brother’s because it didn’t seem conducive to easing their still-rusty brother/sister relationship. There was a walk-in closet at the far-right end of the room, which stirred her curiosity. She stepped inside but browsed only briefly, as the state of Martin’s underwear didn’t interest her.
    Johanna went into the kitchen and found the variety of rosehip tea she liked. The red package was unopened, and she wondered whether Martin had bought it for her. Sitting down with the boiling-hot cup of tea, she considered heading over to the city center to take a walk, since she hadn’t been there since she was a child. She’d ordered a Vienna guidebook from Amazon, but it hadn’t arrived yet.

    Thomas decided to go for a run. He kept a pair of sneakers in the employee locker room and often jogged during breaks at work. If he sat in front of the computer for too long, his butt started to feel numb and the urge to move his body became overwhelming. Sometimes, he would trade his comfortable leather chair for an ergonomic stool so that his spine remained straight, healthy, and free of disc problems. As department head, he had a flexible schedule, and as the nephew and son of the respective owners, he could afford to have a little fun. He loved the feeling of freedom that running brought. Relief and joy washed over him when he finished putting on his sneakers and started running slowly, his pulse rising ever higher, everything else falling away. Sometimes, his efforts were even rewarded with the indescribable ecstasy of the runner’s high.
    Today, Thomas ran to the city center. Jogging around a corner, he accidentally collided with a young woman.
    Annoyed, Thomas muttered, “Watch where you’re going,” and ran on.
    He didn’t like being stopped unnecessarily—not by dead batteries in his MP3 player, not by red lights, not by bicycle riders, drivers, streetcars, or stupid people who didn’t watch where they were going. His goal was to run as far as possible without bumping into any obstacles. Unfortunately, it didn’t always work out that way.

    Johanna’s foot hurt a little. She hadn’t seen the jogger. It seemed like there should be large signs warning you about how reckless people in the big city could be; perhaps it would be in the city guide.
    That man was so outrageously rude; he ran right into me and then blamed me for it ,she thought as she headed for a small supermarket she’d spotted from a distance.
    She bought some chocolate, telling herself she was hungry. In truth, she wasn’t really; she just had a sweet tooth. As a child, she was never allowed to snack between meals, though her parents sometimes allowed a little dessert after dinner. Her grandmother had been more lenient, and she’d introduced Johanna to her love of Ritter Sport chocolate with almonds. It was the kind in the beautiful red package; she took one off the shelf. She would’ve been able to recognize the square bar by its smell alone—just holding the delicious chocolate made her feel much better. She put it in the cart.
    It was interesting how, no matter whether you were in the country or the city, you could count on grocery stores being organized the same way. When you first stepped inside the market, you passed aisles of mostly green things. Then you worked your shopping cart in the direction of the sausage and cheese. Eventually, you landed in the delicatessen, where, out in the country, a friendly server standing behind a counter would greet you—usually someone you knew from school or maybe a distant relative or at least someone everyone was friendly with. In the city, the best you could expect was a smile from the