“Are you fed up, son?” asked the old man.
“Not at all… it’s just how I am” you answered with a sigh.
“So you are permanently fed up” the old man smiled, showing his bare unteethed mouth. You took a sip from your glass and smiled.
With certain difficulty the old man got up from his seat to aproach the table and served himself a drink.
“You like music, don’t you?” asked once again.
“I do. In fact I think no one enjoys it as I do.”
“You are pretentious. But… anyway, you know? I’m leaving you that old radio. I’ll be gone sooner or later.” The old man had his drink at once and hurried through the door, disappearing where the pale light encountered with the shadows.
The radio stopped the tune all of a sudden and, just like that, the national anthem announced the end of the programming day. You had your last shot of the day, took off your boots and laid to rest.
The old man got back after a few minutes. He had a half smile in his face; he said something you didn’t hear. You were already in deep sleep. The old man pulled the door and got lost at last among the shadows outside. The radio still sounded the static noise, mixing itself with the deafening crickets.