I saw things I hadn’t noticed before. That he always placed his phone face down. That when he called on Wednesday, he took it outside, saying, “It’s Zenek, about the cables.” That he’s had a new aftershave since the fall and only uses it on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
On Thursday, he left at three. “To Grudzice, finish the distribution board.” I sat on a bench in front of the building, under a lilac tree that had just bloomed, and looked out at the parking lot. I don’t know what I was waiting for. For a car. For him to come back with his glasses.
He returned after seven. He got out, adjusted his brown glasses on his nose, and waved at me as if he were returning from a business trip.
– Look, Danka! They’ve been found! They were lying under the cables in Zenek’s workshop.
We ate dinner in silence. When he put down his fork, I pushed the plate of blueberry pie toward him. The one from Saturday. I’d kept it in my breadbox for five days, I don’t know why.
