Marcel: 19 Years Without You
- Bernard Jan
- Apr 19
- 1 min read
Tonight, I am watching over you. I leave the desk lamp on, wishing to better guard over the timid work of your lungs from which the rattles and squeals of suffocation no longer emerge after Saša has given you the injections. One could see how you livened up and hurried to the bowl to satisfy your thirst with the very diluted milk. You wanted to boast to Saša that you were doing better and let him know how much his visits mean to you and how much you appreciate what he does for you. If only you knew how proud I am of you!
Your regular breathing lulls me to sleep, from which I awake unaccustomed to the neon light transforming the night in our room into a polar day. I fall to sleep again and twitch, awakened by the beeping of the electric doors of the late-night trams, the roaring engines of occasional cars that chase the empty street, and even rarer passers-by, to whom the nightlife is nothing more alien than that illuminated by daylight. They are both the children of the moon and the children of the sun; unlike me, who always favors the heat of the sun over the beauty of the night sky dotted with myriads of distant stars.
In Memoriam
Marcel
April 19, 2006–April 19, 2025
Thank you.
BJ
Comments