End

We all know the silent dinners.

The wife. The husband. Not having anything to say.
We see them in restaurants sitting next to us. They pop up at our table.
We recognize them through the windows of the empty streets.
We turn away our heads, not wanting to take part in that meal.

I am sitting in a restaurant now, looking at the man across the table.
He is eating. Creamy duck soup. We are silent.
I wonder how I ended up here. Why I came this way. What I should do with the menu.
Maybe I should gobble down my food. To stuff myself with ingredients. Talk to the nice couple from the next table.

Or maybe I have sit through it. Be silent for a while. Feel how it scares the bones out of me.

And then I should start to talk. Express what the silence means. That we have no more to say.



Wonderful picture taken from http://pascalcampion.blogspot.com/