A Little Christmas Carol for Natasha_02_ Holes

2017.12.03 Holes


If it had not been for this apple pie which Otmar baked, I would have forgotten that these holes existed in my mind.

Such a thick top he put on the apple pie that it was possible for the fork to poke in deep holes…

And such deep holes I once looked at with big eyes when I was small. Deep holes on tea biscuits. I used to look for holes which would go through. I think I never found any…

Tea biscuits. Special tea biscuits which we bought from a factory where an aunt of ours was working. Mother used to take us there. It was a rare treat for us because we could take the ferry to cross the Harbour– in those days there was no Cross-Harbour Tunnel. It was always a day trip.

The tea biscuits were special because they were the left-overs from the packaging department. They were broken tea biscuits. It was shortly after the War, and, believe it or not, in those days, one could buy broken biscuits. In any case, they were the only kind we could afford then.

I remember half tea biscuits which we would kind of hate; I remember bigger than half biscuits which we would consider acceptable; I remember considering biscuits with just one corner broken to be priceless. Above all, I remember with fond memory finding those almost-impossible-to-find biscuits with only one tiny tip of a corner missing!

And I would be running my fingers over my ‘perfect’ tea biscuit, feeling its deep holes…

Düsseldorf, 1999.12.15
Re-published, in response to Storyhucker Stuart M. Perkins
Hong Kong, 2017.12.03

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