I was six or seven at the time - my parents pulled me to the side: "Bürstner," they said, "How do we explain; you have something living inside. No one knows when you will lie down, pushing Baby out onto the ground; We don't have a date to look for: ten months, two years - maybe even more. We know that it's hard to understand, Bürstner, but you need to know now. Think always on Baby, eat right; he's your little life within a life." *** It would be a lie to say that after fourteen years it all makes sense; Baby hasn't come and so I watch the horses, swinging on the fence.