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Jakob wasn’t there. He never was. He was the classic example of the absent father. He could nevertheless not be accused of not being present. His gaze could penetrate the thickest walls. Somehow, he just knew. This made people shy away from him. Noone likes to be subjected to such piercing blue eyes. Slightly blank, like water blurred the edges of those irises, just added to the discomfort you would unfailingly experience. In the gaze was a good measure of judgement. Not so much with words, what can they convey anyway? So he trudged on, unperturbed by the commotion in his wake. He had had to develop a rather thick skin over the years. Most things seemed to bounce off him, and you could be excused for thinking that nothing got to him. This was not true. A lot of things got to him.

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