Marlon wouldn’t sleep again, but that didn’t matter anymore as he couldn’t remember the last day when he could fall asleep it without his long and painful ritual. And since it wouldn’t make any difference anyway, he decided to go downstairs and fix himself some coffee.

All recent facts of his miserable life were around every step in that old floor and every piece of that old fashioned furniture: the pink empty cradle… the king size bed, built for two as the bike in that old song… her picture, hanging over the fireplace, kind of smiling to the long lost days and kind of crying for the happiness which wouldn’t come to that lifeless eyes.

His old man tried to tell him that Karen wouldn’t stand such hardship - oh! Lord! - If only had he listened… What would he have given to make things just a bit differently? “To late” - he said aloud as if someone had asked the same question once again.

The kitchen was the only corner which had changed, but not much, after her departure, and the new coffee machine was his best listener then.

On the outset some palls would listen to him and give some advice, then the most sympathetic ones would answer with a nod or two, later their number decreased and finally the coffee machine would replace everybody.

That doesn’t matter- he lied to himself – sob stories aren’t very popular after two weeks, but some sobbing would last for good, a bad combination indeed!

A crack near the front door announced that somebody would ring the bell, but the annoying sound never came.

He tried to play it cool, and he might have succeeded if Linda’s dog kept silent. The middle-aged man walked slowly and nervously unlocked the door, but nobody could be seen around at first, but down he looked and there it was: the basket I still keep in my cabinet!

You may say that I am a total nut but I really remember his look when he was lifting the basket, or you may say that what I remember was the recollection of other people, or anything like that, but listen to what I say I DO REMEMBER.

Sometimes I think about it and then those sixty-five years between that Christmas Eve and today seem to be unimportant.

That day I was the greatest treasure of my daddy.