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TADZIO


Slowly I opened my eyes and in the harsh sunlight saw only one thing, an

old man in a deck-chair reading a book. I knew he was old from his

clothes, the careful manner with which he turned the pages, his calm

expression. Disorientated still, it seemed to me that the world was a

void in which only this stranger floated; unthinkingly I stared at him,

trying to understand him, until his glance fell on mine. Suddenly aware

of my rudeness, I closed my eyes, turned my head and wished him away.

The day was hot and I began to doze; when I woke he had gone.


Tadzio Speaks . . .


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