I returned from Nice on Sunday evening, but I feel very depressed.
You know, my mum told me that my dad would pick us up, but he didn't show up. So we tried to ring him up for thirty minutes. We even asked the clerk from the airport information to call his name, but still my dad didn't come to that place. So we went home by taking the bus. Immediately after having opened the door, the telephone was ringing. On the phone, my dad told us that he was in hospital in Kassel (which is about 200 kilometres away from us), after having had a terrible accident on his way from his brother in the Czech Republic to Germany last Friday. His car has been completely damaged, but thank God that he's alive. 
Maureen 
Attom 
I like the smell of Napalm, first thing in the morning...
