“The next day, they put me in a black coffin and then in the hearse that took me to the cemetery. Not many people turned up. After the brief service, everyone left and I was alone. At first, I didn't like it here at all, but I'm used to it now, and I enjoy the silence. I see Esperancita once a month, and the boys every other month, and that's all: this is my life and my death, where there is nothing.”
―
Javier Marías,
While the Women Are Sleeping