Gone Hiking

Brigitte, another English teacher at HTL Pinkafeld, invited me last Monday to go hiking with her and her class on Wednesday. The last time I had gone hiking was in Prague two summers ago, where a hilly trail on the western edge of the town had led me up through the woods, past a wild… More Gone Hiking

French Fries, Please

My mentor Mr. Putz and I got together on Wednesday for some afternoon coffee and cake. He picked me up from my dormitory and drove down to the town center a half a kilometer away and parked his green Volkswagen across the street from the café. “It’s close enough that we could’ve walked, I suppose,”… More French Fries, Please


A small town of barely five thousand residents, Pinkafeld sits halfway between Vienna and Graz and is tucked away in the wooded mountains that enshroud Burgenland, the least populous state in Austria. A river – or rather, a stubborn stream – runs down the middle of the town and demarcates the northernmost and the southernmost… More Pinkafeld


I walked up to my new student, who sat hunched over the plastic, beige desk of the tutoring center and lolled his head back and forth. Next to him stood a tall plastic cup full of chocolate Frappuccino that was half empty. Before sitting down in the open chair next to him, I followed his… More Kevin


As any responsible philosophy major does after graduation, I moved back in with my parents. I sleep on a futon in my brother’s room, eat everything in the fridge, and drink my dad’s beer. “You need to start paying rent,” Dad told me after the second straight evening of going through his Racer 5 IPAs.… More Jobbing

Unlucky Day

Wesley dashed through the rain from the bus stop to his apartment entrance as he held his leather briefcase over his head. The day that started out under scheming, grey clouds had turned into a stormy night, with streaks of lightning crashing down and echoing booms trailing the flashes seconds later. Wesley’s brown suit and… More Unlucky Day