That same evening
Only an hour had passed and I knew more about the man than you could imagine.
I knew about the multi-coloured push pen, the glasses case, the phone that distorted words and sounds. At regular intervals he got out something that forced me to look. And each time he never disappointed me, as the things he had made him a meticulous, possibly boring but certainly well organised guy. When he got up I took possession of everything, out of an unstoppable need I can’t explain. Tissues, aniseed sweets, even his diary and a large bunch of keys passed through my hands.
There were five minutes to the end of the break, so I moved away for a little walk. The man hadn’t yet come back, I was afraid of meeting him and looking him in the eye. Suddenly I realised that I had to leave because that’s what thieves do, they leave the field straight away and don’t get lost in digressions.
That same evening that man was killed in an armed robbery.
It’s useless, you never find anything interesting in people’s bags.