Truce

Truce


The Return


The road narrowed as he approached. The soil had dried on the surface, but underneath it still held moisture, heavy and thick, as if it hadn't decided whether to become mud or dust. The car's tires left an uncertain imprint, something between a scratch and a wound.


He didn't remember it being like this.


Or maybe he remembered it, but didn't realize it at the time.


The smell came first. Not just of damp earth, but something more complex, as if the water had mixed with iron, with rotting leaves, with something that had died and had not yet decided to decompose. He closed the window for a moment, then opened it again. He wanted to feel her.


The bend before the village had changed. The old tree had been cut down. In its place, a stump, smooth, almost polished by the rain. Further on, the stream had swollen so much that it had eaten away part of the road. A makeshift railing kept drivers at a distance, as if warning them without explaining.


Stop for a moment.


Turn off the engine.


The silence was not complete. There was always a sound, low, continuous. The water flowing somewhere nearby. The wind passing through the dry reeds. A metallic sound of something broken that struck rhythmically.


He stayed like that, with his hands on the steering wheel.


He didn't want to go in.


It wasn't fear. It was something more vague. A resistance that had no face. As if something was telling her that this place wasn't waiting for her, didn't need her.


Maybe he was right.


He pushed forward and continued.


The first houses appeared scattered, with yards that seemed larger than he remembered. They were empty. Some doors were ajar, not from carelessness, but from abandonment. The windows in many houses were closed, with shutters that had faded to a colorless gray.


A cat crossed the road, slowly, without looking.


In the center, the square was almost as he remembered it, but not exactly. The trees were still there, but their leaves were sparser. The cafe was open, but there were fewer chairs. And the people inside, very few.


Park next to the fountain.


He came down.


The air was warmer than he had expected, but it lacked clarity. It carried with it fine dust that stuck to his skin. He looked up at the sky.


It wasn't blue.