Dumitrache.net

It was evening, maybe 8:00 – 8:30. The Sun was casting a pale yellow light over the old houses in the quarter near the House of Culture. The cracked streets seemed completely lifeless. There was nobody around but us and it was quiet. Even the dogs behind the improvised fences were silent, not noticing our presence.

We were walking down an unknown street towards an unknown destination. I didn’t care. I didn’t even notice when he joined me, suddenly appearing on my left without saying a word. I was calm and unmarked by the sudden appearance, actually feeling comfortable.

“So.. her too?” he asked casually, as if we had been walking together for hours.

“Yeah… her too.” I answered.

“You’ll get used to it in time.”

“Already had.” I said as I pulled a pack of cigars out of my leather jacket and lit one.

“Your mother knows about this?”

“Not really.”

“Let me have one”

“Help yourself” and I lend him the pack.

“They started to print images on all of these?” he said while briefly analyzing the pack.

“Yes, a few years ago.”

“You should quit this” – he said returning the pack without getting a cigar. “It’s not good… I know it.”

We continued to walk the abandoned streets. The high tower of the church was now on our right and we were passing by a school which, in the summer used to be full with loud gypsies listening to idiotic music and hitting on the girls that were having the misfortune of passing by the school fence.

“This used to be a boot camp. I had my military training here” – he said pointing to the now abandoned school.

I suddenly realized where we were going. As we passed the school we arrived outside the door of a small rented house.  Ever since I lost all my innocence I hadn’t paid him a visit. His door was the only one opened in the dead quarter.

“We’re here.” – he announced. “Listen, you need to keep coming here. It will be fine eventually.”

“What now?” – I asked, as he started to slowly walk away towards our old blue Dacia, which was already parked there, on its spot, a few meters away from the door.

“Now I have to leave. I was nice talking to you again. I hope we will meet again sometime. If not, remember this” – he said, talking casually as if this was just a normal day.

He got into the car which we sold almost 2 years ago. The sound of the door echoed in the silence. He started the engine and headed in the direction of the old crematory were the Sun was finally setting.