The brightness of the weather was cool and foggy; the sky had a greyish turquoise tint, like the silt in the buckwheat straw of a wagon. Snow had fallen during the night, and its warm damp was now sticking to the seams of the sea. Not a breath of wind stirred the quiet air. It was very still, but a draft would blow across the street and make a little flurry of feet on the sidewalk. Completely forgetting about the people who brought me to the beach, I slowly walked around the dense pine trees on the western side of the street, taking stock of the quiet street, my gaze still fixed on him, until I saw him sitting alone, across the narrow gap of a building, with a newspaper spread on his laps. Walking closer to him, I made sure my gaze was planted on his face, hoping not to miss a single moment of him. As I walked closer, he
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