In my university, there was a particularly handsome and brilliant professor, in his late forties (we guessed : but he was probably older) – there was not a girl on campus who did not have a crush on him – and stories circulated about him : he was married to a renowned dancer for a few years but their marriage didn’t work – (the woman, years later, committed suicide) – and he was now married to a woman much older than him. Sometimes, a friend and I would take a casual stroll outside his office just to see if he had come in that day. Other times, he could be seen smoking a cigarette leaning against a wall or a door and one didn’t know whether to look at him or the smoke floating floating floating into the air
slowly ever so slowly disappearing in a direction that always made one wonder what happens,
what is earth?