After a long and exhausting day
in the fields of language, the learner sits on a hill under a tree, gazing at the sun as it slowly turns the horizon into a painting of red and yellow and gold. It’s been a long day, working on German is hard labor. But now it is time for the much deserved rest.
Somewhere, in the distance, a shepherd is playing the flute.
Something rustles in the tree. The learner looks up, but sees nothing. Probably just the wind, calm down, the learner says to himself. He bites his grass stalk a little faster than before.
There it was again, the rustling. Probably just the wind. But the air is still. The learner looks around. Silence. The flute has stopped. The sun has stopped, too. And then, suddenly, the learner knows. Part of him had known from the first rustling. His grandmother had been right. There was no escaping.
Slowly, he turns upward to face what he knew was lurking – a German Prefix Verb, mouth gaping, like a gateway to hell as it screeches at the learner.
He recognizes it. It is
The learner feels a bit of relief. Anfallen is an especially aggressive specimen, but not too cunning. And the learner had read about it just a few days ago. Quickly, he tries to recollect what he’d read …