Yakapin

I remember Hans walked slowly, looking down on his foot. He was counting every brick, I guess. He greeted me every day, but I thought he forgotten it that day. But I saw him in the middle of the road. It was a busy hour, and I rushed to call him back. Everything was slow and fast, I got deaf for a while. Horns were crying from every car.

Yes, I saw Hans.

He looked at me and waved. I thought he meant hello, but I read his lips. He said, “Goodbye.”