It's time to back off. To take a step back and look at the past and think. Also to look at the future and think. But now is now and that is the moment to do something, to push life in a direction. What direction? Good question. A big drink for anyone who knows the answer. I think I'll take my step back over there. In the Dessert. No people, no problems, just time. Also no mirrors to look at. Have I a problem with mirrors? No. I just do not like to look at an empty face on the other side. The face that used to be mine. Never mind, it's a waste of time to stare in the mirror. And it's selfish.
But before I leave, I should talk to the tailor. He owes me that conversation and there is no way that I let it go.
...
Tiffany entered the workshop and looked at the tailor. She realised that he aged since her last visit there. Last black hair got gray. His moves were slower. He stopped his work and looked back at her. Then, after the first wave of surprise went away, he led her to the armchairs in the corner of the workshop. When she sat down he did so too. The silence could last forever but they both knew that this conversation had to happen.
"I'm sorry, Tiffany. I know how it sounds but I don't know what else I could say. I know that I let you down and you have all possible reasons to hate me." He stopped talking and lowered his eyes. The ball was on Tiffany's pitch.
"I don't hate you, Trevor. Also I feel like I let Vicky down. It's also on me. I just want to talk to you because I know you will not judge me. And I know we all tried to do good deeds, and we did some. But now also I realised that there was always a risk which I tried to not see. And even the best prepared action can go wrong. I don't blame you, I blame myself. I was too cocky to see things as they were. But I want to talk, I will sit here and listen to you. I know that you saw a lot and somehow I see you as a moral and existential guide. Feel free to laugh now"
The tailor smiled indeed. Not with a happy smile, just a weak glimpse of it. Tiffany waited in silence.
"I don't want to talk about why things went wrong. I'd like to tell you why I try to do what I do. I have a past. Ugly one. Nothing to be proud of. I was a bad person once. When I managed to settle down in my thugs life I felt safe. Too safe. My enemies sensed it and one day they took it away from me. I fell to the bottom with great noise. They had me on the floor in a pond of blood but they let me live. I don't know why, maybe because of cruelty, maybe mercy, or maybe because of laziness. I ended on the street. I was a homeless and mad with despair. I wanted to die. I was trying and I was failing till I was too weak to move a finger in my shoe. In a pathetic way I was ready to die as they say from more or less natural causes. In a winter day, I fell on the ground and lied there till felt no more cold. SHE was coming. I saw her in a distance, young and pretty, tempting. I remember her face, soft and calm, a promise of a better time. Before she approached I heard a music, deathly calm and beautiful, gentle piano notes. It was like being in the middle of a meadow and seeing and hearing a piano from a close distance. And there was one, and a guy playing it. Our eyes met but he was still playing without a word. And there was another voice, tellin me to lie down and close my eyes. I did as it said. The pianist kept playing. And there I was, in a summer meadow, surrounded by the scent of grass and flowers. Then I had a moment of nothingness. Like I'd seized existing. And then I began to hear the music again but differently. With a spark of life. I opened my eyes and saw her again. She stood just in front of me and she was sad, almost crying. I saw her holding my hand. I spoke to her.
"Surely we'll meet again but not as soon as you'd wish."
"Am I not pretty enough for you?"
"You are the prettiest in the world but I'm not ready yet for such commitment."
