The words pierced my ears, leaving a deafening whistle behind. Even though the cup of tea stayed against my lips, I had stopped drinking it.
He stared at me as I lowered the cup to place it on the table.
"I'm very sorry to hear that," I said. "I… I didn't know about it."
"Why would you?"
His sentences were never easy to reply to. And to top it off, I wasn't used to having a conversation about such a topic.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Heart attack."
"I see…. You must have so many memories here. I guess you don't have a reason to sell your home anymore."
"Are you joking? I want to leave this place as soon as I can."
"Huh?"
"Who cares about a building? Memories are here," he said as he tapped the side of his head with his finger. "But I'm old, kid. The last thing I want to do is rot on a couch, reminiscing about the past. I want to live in the present for what little remains of my life, and I want to fulfill my wife's and I's last wish."