He went to work, made his orders and returned to the workshop in the evening. He bought a few clothes, a new blanket and a kettle. For the first time in a long time, he could eat without hearing that he was holding the wrong fork.
But the silence also had a price.
Sometimes, in the evening, loneliness took hold of him. He lacked the noise of the house, he lacked the garden, he lacked even the habit of hearing the TV in the living room.
In those moments, he was tempted to come back.
Not because things had changed, but because the known life, however painful, seemed less frightening than the unknown.
On such an evening, Mihai found him sitting on the steps of the workshop.
What are you doing, man?
— I’m thinking.
- To Larisa?
Basil agreed.
I wonder if I was wrong. Maybe I should have tried again.
