He came to the house and I could immediately see death on his face, overflowing. I asked him, how are you? Although I already knew the answer. “Very bad,” he said, “I’m destroyed. Destroyed.” The rest, I could read in his eyes. “One day he’s there, the next day he’s gone. Like this. It vanished into thin air. That voice, those gestures, that way of being, don’t exist anymore. They were lost like that in the ether. All that remains is his body, his shell, in which I no longer recognize him.”
He sat down and in Spanish I said, “I’m so sorry.”
He had death on his face
Still reflected in his eyes.
Absence. Surprise. The question mark.
That big unanswered question.
That’s how I saw it, when he arrived this morning for the Spanish and piano class.
And I taught them “Happy Birthday” in Spanish and on the piano.
(original in Spanish)