TE19 Iberian Adventure

Passing Time in Portugal

Pedro’s business picked up and Rodrick was back in Scotland, recovering from a stroke. The music nights in the Tavern were rarer, most eveningswe stayed home. Sometimes guests appeared but otherwise, like starlit gargoyle, alone on the terrace, a breeze cuts the humid night. The horizon turns gold, then indigo. The nostalgic journey of hurt, sorrow and longing comes to an end. My Grandfather looks out over the hills and beside him Judy nurses a glass of local wine; alone in their orbits, if planets could speak what would they say? “Nothing can revive the glory of youth.” The ghost whispered, “Now, old age prevents me from realising those dreams. That day at the train station was a kind of death sentence. The eight-year- old child died that day. It’s been a horizontal fall ever since.” Grandfather rocked silently. There was no emotion, only eyes like setting planets, weak and dim. “No, I regret nothing.” He finally spoke, “The past is swept away, forgotten. Neither the good that was done to me, neither evil, all that does not matter to me – Não ... não me arrependo.”

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