Scene 1
Open the eyes, smile, touch the sheets. Coldness, surprize. Get up, call, walk, get down. Call, call, call again. Open, look, close. Walk, open, stop. Scream, cry, walk, touch. Her skin was soft as a peach’s. Cry, get up, take it, cry, put it in the car. Open, start, close, drive. Two persons on the way, no more. The walls, no one else around. Open the gate, take it, close the door, enter. Take a shovel, dig, take it, put it in. Don’t cry, put the earth in the hole, go to the car, leave. Back in the house, think. Sleep a little, get up, think, don’t cry. No more singing, no more noise, the house is emptied from life.
Scene 2
Open the eyes, get up, walk, sit, eat, drink, get up. Seconds are dropping in the hourglass of Life. Get in, wash, get out, dry, fold, dress, brush, get out. Has anything changed since yesterday ? So much and so little.
Get out, lock, get down, open, close, walk. Outside, it’s shining. But inside ? Walk, breathe, wait, cross, walk, listen, watch. Wait for something. Something spectacular, incredible, something unforgettable, something that would make him important. Wait but nothing happens. Want to get over there, where there’s happiness. Want to, crave for that, but it’s not happening. What would it be like ?
Walk, breathe, wait. He is nowhere. What is this place ? Walk, run, bent, wait, get up, run, hide, wait, listen. Rifle in hand, everything is fine. Crawl, stop, get up, run, hide. He wasn’t ready, not yet. He can face himself in the mirror every morning, but can’t leave this house, no. He accepts loneliness and going would break this implicit agreement he made with himself. He will not do that. he will stay here, live here and die here.
Scene 3
Open the eyes, get up, withdraw the curtains. Sun, no clouds, blue sky. Go out, smell the flowers, go back in, eat and drink. He would get prepared and leave. Now he was almost ready. Pack the backpack, lace the shoes, take a deep breath. Open the door, close it. He would succeed, he would go there. He was prepared. He turned back, rifle in hand ; he was free now. No fear, no anxiety, it would be easy. It could.
Carefully, he got to the car. Open the trunk, put the rifle, close, open the door, get in, lock the door, start the engine, drive slowly. No one in the streets. He wouldn’t be disturbed. He was getting close, he could see it now, the huge rocky walls, and the gate too. No one in sight, just this old blue car, which he was used to now. Park the car, unlock, open, get out, lock, walk quickly but noiselessly.
The gate was open. Why ? Who had opened it ? When ? He last came two days ago, and was sure he had closed it properly. Look right, look left, right again. No one, no noise, no sign of life nowhere. Walk, open the gate, go in, close the gate. He was safe inside, before : there was the lock. But now ? He stood still, listening, but there wasn’t any noise. Everything was calm, quiet, lifeless.
Walk, get down the four stairs, walk, stop. Bend over, take the backpack off, open, take the book and the flower. Put the dull flower on the grave, touch the fading picture. Sit down, open the book, read. He would live.
