He looked at the
sky at night but saw no stars. All he could see was a huge uniform,
indigo-tinged, almost black cover. It all seemed so dry, so dull and so
trivial. Even the night had become entirely devoid of any interest to him. He
sighed. Maybe it was him who had gone dried… more inside than out…
***
The rain was
falling outside. Torrentially. He liked the rain. He used to say it was good
for the plants and for the soul. He decided to leave in spite of the heavy
weather anyway. He wondered how such a decision could change everything. At
other times, in the past, he would never come out in the rain if that could be
avoided. Now it was more a matter of wanting, not of being able to. And he
wanted to.
He put on his
waterproof coat, pulled the hood over his head and left. The cold autumn air
hit him head on. He bent forward and strode down the street. He knew where to
go and was in a hurry.
***
He fumbled in his
pocket. Among a tube of lip balm, a tissue and the keys to the apartment, he
found what he was searching for. He stroked the cold surface of the metal with
his fingertips, as if caressing it. He almost smiled.
At the door, after
the usual three-knock code, he waited. The sound of the key turning in the lock
filled him with a known excitement, in greater anticipation than at other times
before. He stepped in quietly until he heard the door close behind him.
His heart pounded
heavily.
***
