He had a secret. A secret that burned in his backpack.
The room went silent. The other techs stared at their shoes. Eleven liters. That was my number. My identity. The capacity I had bragged about, the spec I had tattooed on the inside of my wrist (metaphorically, though I’d considered it literally after three espressos). bravo dr sommer bodycheck thats me 11l
20.10.1969: Erste "Sprechstunde mit Dr. Sommer" in der "Bravo" - WDR He had a secret