The finding

Genaro and Fermín knew each other since the first years of school, and now the two of them in their forties they used to meet on Saturday evenings at the modest Horizonte coffee-shop that used to be in front of the park.    

Commonly spoke about childhood memories, old movies revivals, books they used to read and interchange, and sometimes spoke about what they considered existential problems. Like for example suicide.

-I think it would never happen to me – said Genero rather desperate – what for? The end needs no calling, don’t you think?.

-I, however – Said Fermín – wouldn’t leave that idea so easy.

- But what could it be the reason? Anguish? Poverty? Illness? Loving disappointment?

- Not at all. If I take that decision in some foggy evening with no thunder and no angelus, I’d do it just out of curiosity. Just to know what’s beyond. It can be fascinating.

-In case there’s something.

- Look, just in case I warn you. If someday I decide to jump the gun, and find something, it could be anything, the dry leaves falling down will be the sign even though it’s not fall.

- How come?

- Had a dream about it.

- Thank goodness, I thought you were losing your mind.

That conversation took place the last November Saturday. Next first February Saturday Genaro and Fermín met each other as usually at the Horizonte coffee-shop.

A long silence remained. It looked like they had exhausted all possible topics.

Fermin drank up all his coffee and spent some time chewing air.

Suddenly he got up, Offers a kindly and gently smile and said – Ciao.

Genero saw him living away towards the Pine forest until disappeared from view.

After half-an-hour, the gunshot rings out sharply and deaf. After the first fright and not recovering from yet from the unexpected, Genero did notice that just on the middle of the summer a bunch of dry leaves stared to fall down right above his table.

Written by Mario Benedetti on El porvenir de mi pasado.
Translated by Dom.