Kathe Koja
A holiday party upstairs at the bakery, honey stollen and cardamom biscuits and black rum punch, white roses bunched in a Mestemacher tin, and Felix playing the old-fashioned upright piano, Felix a little drunk, caroling in a mash-up of three languages, Noche de paz, noche de amor, hanging on his shoulder as they floundered back through the drift and blow of the snow.
