My old friend’s grief is on the fishing boats. He has wandered across the sea every night. Biel is very happy and he has told me a lot of stories. We often meet at the port here in Torrevieja Spain. He is there on the Fish Market every day, with a fishing rod in his hand and his unmistakable cigar.
That day he told me that luck did not accompany him. There were small fish for bait, their “fighters” fellow fishermen had given them. I wished him luck and left him with his cigar and memories.
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