A friend of mine, who used to be a chef,
was filleting a mackerel when he found
a ring; inside the ring read: Magda 1972.
The golden ring, my friend wore, was on the
left index finger. But it chafed and chafed till
Skin broke and he got an ulcer.
Fed up with this and perhaps a little
inebriated, he gave the ring to a girl in
a bar in Rotterdam…she looked at
the engraving of the ring and fainted.
It had belonged to her husband who
tragically drowned at sea.
My friend liked the woman – no longer
a mere girl – and despite her past, he
married Magda, she sold the ring and
with the proceeds was able to buy a little
bar, but my friend´s finger turned septic
and had to be amputated.
