Have a good night say I. Than again, sleep well and for a third time, I hear me saying, take care. I stare down on my feet. I have to get out of bed early tomorrow morning he says more than an hour later, while we continue talking. I nod. Do you have a cigarette? a random passer-by asks, slightly drunk. He offers one. I look at his back of head, his ears, the shoulders broad and strong, his elbows and beyond us the river, black as the night, the streets and the night. Outside of a pub, a group of girls sings „Like a prayer“ loud and full of enthusiastic exuberance. We look at the stranger who disappears soon, only a weak shimmer of his cigarette remains for a few seconds longer visible. I have to go say I and get up, brushing the damp grass from my trousers and leave. Should I walk you home, he asks me and I deny. I am grown up, say I and want to smile but I can’t. When crossing the street and search for my keys I still can see him standing at the corner, looking for what?
The door is being locked behind me. Half an hour later, the telephone rings but I don’t pick up. I have no answers left, not even for D. who asks later how it went. The most banal one would be that two wrong’s don’t make a right one and D. looks at me with doubt. He doesn’t ask and I don’t tell him that sometimes the injuries are too deep to go away, even for one night.