I was sitting with a friend on the pavement at one in the morning, when he started talking about this toys that we used to play with when we were children: a gun with small colorful balls as ammunition. And then I had this flashback, with me standing in front of a fence and talking with a childhood friend. We were neighbors at my grandmother's house and we used to play together. Ever since he moved next door, I remember wishing we could spend more time with each other. I was so shy back then and didn't have the courage to go and play with him, and on the rare occasions when we did, it was the best time I ever had.
He died six years later, when I was about twelve or thirteen, after 3 years of paralysis. The last time I saw him, we were playing cards in his room, he was paralyzed on the left side of his body and was holding his cards with his right hand.
At the funeral, I didn't have the strength to see him lying in the coffin. In a way it is better to remember him the way he was.
On the other hand, I will always regret sitting alone in my room, because I didn't have the guts to ask his mother if he wanted to play with me.

For an old friend, I miss you...

[photo: www.flickr.com/photos/meervahl/2160340686/]