I wanted to have a cup of coffee and a sweet almond pastry on the terrace of the taberna and watch the passers-by. You know I love doing that. Unfortunately, all the tables in the shade were occupied and I had forgotten my sunglasses.
Widow Polinka must have seen me looking around and waved at me, inviting me to the free seat at her table. I ordered coffee for the both of us.
According to her, she said after a while, she was ready to throw off the clothes of mourning, her widowhood had lasted long enough.
She had also noticed that there was no longer a black blanket under your saddle, Platero.
“Is the mourning period over for him as well?” she wanted to know.
“Not yet,” I replied. “The black has worked its way through his fur, straight to his heart. Just like it did with me.” I stood up and left, leaving a half empty cup of coffee.