On our last Sunday in Berlin, we made an offering to a playground troll at the southwest corner of the Tiergarten, in the shadow of the golden angel we remembered from that Wim Wenders movie. The offering was of a beat-up Nerf football we found left behind on the lawn, tethering that spot to our homeland in some kind of supply chain sympathetic magic, and a yellow flower I pinched from a nearby bush. We wished for safe travels home from our summer vacation, and in the end it mostly worked.
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