Italian Shoes

by Henning Mankell

‘Neither you nor I believe in miracles. If they happen, they happen. But believing in them, expecting them – that’s nothing more than wasting the time alloted to you.

I have stood behind half-open doors and listened to my colleagues, to patients, to people’s intimate conversations in cafes or on trains. I discovered that most conversations contained small, almost unnoticeable lies. I used to ask myself if that’s the way it’s always been.

Just for a brief moment she had sparkled like a ruby. Now it was as if she had never existed. The only thing about death that scares me is its utter indifference.