I've got half a post written up in Word that I will finish soon. @^_^@

((Yay! This is my introductory post - ))
So it turned out that the guidebooks were right - Berlin did have beautiful bridges. Nyla Dickenson rested her hand on the black stone rail of the Schleusenbrucke bridge. The entire bridge was a decorative piece of art, the history of the city’s bridges carved into one bridge that arched over the Kupfergrabenkanal. She let out a little sigh, relieved that her trip had been going well so far. Throughout college she’d eaten history, slept history, and breathed history. Somehow she’d made it through and gotten a master’s degree in history. All that education about what once had been made her feel worldly and made her feel like she should go out and meet the world she’d been studying for so long. She had saved up all the money she didn’t need for necessities to take a trip to see Europe. Somehow she’d ended up going to Germany, so there she was, standing on a bridge in Berlin. She took a nice big breath of German air.

“Ah, I see you are enjoying Berlins pollution, Fraulein.” A rich voice from behind her made her snap out of her thinking. She turned around to come face to face with a relatively tall man, perhaps in his early thirties, with dark brown hair.

“You surprised me.” Nyla wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she made a general statement.

“Sorry to surprise you. I just saw you standing there, taking deep breaths of the city’s less than perfect air, and thought I’d comment. Are you here on a business trip?”

“No, I come here of my own free will. It’s my vacation - I’ve always wanted to see Europe.”

“I see. You must be...American?”

“Yes, and you must be German. Although I have to admit, your English is very good.”

“Thank you for the compliment. I get few chances to practice my conversational skills, so I’m afraid my English is less than perfect.”

“Whose is? I’ve grown up with English for most of my life, and I’m still not very grammatically correct. It’s a horridly difficult language to become an expert in.”

“That I can agree with Fraulein -?”

“Fraulein Dickenson, Nyla Dickenson that is.”

“Ah, pleasure to meet you Fraulein Dickenson, I am Herr Krause, but please call me Franz.” He put out his hand.

“Well, in that case, you may call me Nyla.” She shook his hand.

“Perhaps you would allow me to practice my conversational English skills further over lunch?”

Nyla was a bit taken aback by Franz’s question. He seemed like a nice man, and his dark, high-cheekbone looks were rather attractive, but they’d only met minutes ago. If this rather abrupt question had been asked back in Pennsylvania, where Nyla had gone to college, she’d have instantly said no. But today the situation was a tad different; she was in Europe on a bridge in Berlin, Germany. She couldn’t even quite remember why she’d picked Germany as her country of choice - perhaps it was all to stand on this bridge and meet this man. A clash with fate?

“Yes, why not!” Nyla decided that her analyzation of the situation was getting out of hand and she needed to stop it before it went any further.

“Wonderful. I know the perfect place that serves the best Linsensuppe and Kartoffelsuppe.”

“Linsensuppe and Karoffelsuppe?”

“Yes, Linsensuppe - lentil soup with sausages and Karoffelsuppe - creamy potato soup served with slices of sausage and flavored deliciously with marjoram.”

“I have a feeling that today’s lunch is going to be an adventure.”

“If you think Linsensuppe and Karoffelsuppe are an adventure Nyla, you have eaten nothing yet. Here, the restaurant is right about the corner.” Franz and Nyla began to walk away from the bridge.

Nyla hoped she had made the right decision. She quickly crossed her fingers as they strolled up to a cute little timber-framed building. She would find out soon enough.

LOL!

Yeah, sorry about that, I hadn't checked the little admin boxes yet.