Walter and Aleister
Nuremberg, May 1940
Walter Kluge was twenty one. A fine, tall, unselfconsciously handsome young man. A little gangly perhaps, his legs just a little too long. This was most apparent when he rode his bicycle, juddering over the cobbled streets to Nuremberg’s university. He was studying English Literature which was still perfectly acceptable and was expecting to claim a first class degree in just a months time.
The girls always turned their heads when Walter pedalled by. A good family, his father was a well respected, recently retired professor and his mother, though some eighteen years younger than her husband, was admired and sometimes envied as a perfect wife and mother.
Frau Kluge always kept herself just so. Dressed immaculately, she could turn a drab jacket and skirt into something striking just by tilting her pillbox hat to a certain degree. At forty two, with her Walter…
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