“What about the moon pathway that runs along the snow-drift? And it mixes with the street lights? Do you see that now?” For the first time since the beginning of the conversation she caught a tang of insecurity in his voice. She felt like punishing him for his shameless invasion in her private world. She wanted to tell him something cynical and hurtful. That she didn’t see the moonlight because of the piles of trash, dirt and howling dogs in the night. That the snow purity has been drawn in mud.
“A few hours from that moment I will send you away and I will wait until your flight takes off. I can tell you now that I will not cry, I will not shed even a tear. Your friends will be staring at me with frown on their faces. They will whisper like old gossipers. ‘What a bastard, he didn’t even tremble.’ I will not cry even when your plane gets lost somewhere far in the distance. I am just no good in that. But… that doesn’t mean I will not miss you.”