Short Stories

The night envelops me as if it were recognizing a lover thought to be lost. Soon the sun will rise and cast its murderous light on everything that doesn’t disappear into one of the many shadows.

A beautiful whistle sounds as the wind blows through the branches. It’s nice that you’re visiting me today. Unfortunately, it will always remain just that. A short visit.

Do you remember the time when we chased the very wind that now carries your voice with our sticks? When on our way home from school, we made a detour to the kiosk to squander the money our parents gave us? When late at night we left the playground to embark on that journey home?

Even today, you remind me often of those times. Why can’t we figure out that we’re living in the good old times before it’s too late? Before it becomes an “old” time. How many years have passed by now? Probably ten. So, I’m what... twenty-seven? Probably already getting the first gray hairs.

Did I ever tell you that your mother still keeps your room just as you left it? Not even dust is allowed to discolor the picture. This room is like a step back in time. A step that each of us would lovingly take.

Maybe something could have been changed. Give you back the will. Provide the strength. We would have had to get Maya to finally confess her love. She loved you. Truly. I never saw her after school. And today, I’m the only one still here.

I hope you’ve arrived. Wherever you’ve gone now.

As I said, things went downhill after school. My worries have long since drowned in alcohol. At least, I managed that much. It just isn’t my day for years.

Oh, before I forget. Look. I found your old record in our treehouse. It’s playing your favorite song. Tell me... Do you hear that? Am I reaching you? The tones used to sound so beautiful. Today, one instrument is missing. At least, that’s how it feels.

I’ll return it to your mother later. She wants to have as much of you with her as possible. I can’t deny her such a masterpiece.

It’s crazy, isn’t it? How much we’ve all drifted apart. We used to be such a big group. Each of us is now somewhere else. Actually, Maya and you are probably closest to each other right now. She’s not that far away. That was important to her. The last thing she asked me.

Next year, this village won’t exist anymore. Everyone is moving away. One house after another is being demolished. I think the only person still fighting against it is your mother. And even she is soon running out of strength.

Sometimes I wonder if you made the only right decision after all. You probably had the most beautiful time. I’ll definitely come to you as soon as possible. I’m looking forward to it.

Well then. It was nice to see you again. Happy birthday and until next time. Then you can show me how you’ve spent these many years. See ya.