Ο Fanouris, as he looked at the dead body of Giannis, felt an incredible shame and at the same time a terrible sadness that he was living. It was one of those shames that stain the mind and soul, that you can't clean with anything, but they can transform your life for the better. As he pondered his thought, all the past, all that they had faced together, stirred. A merciless vortex swept him from the beginning of their relationship, from the transmission of the AIDS virus and the rest of their journey. His incredible love with Cindy - the unknown companion at the time -, the rich years of Athens, the almost five years for the transition, the life in the institution. Like a photograph, framed by the mist of time, their past, their entire lives passed before him.
He would like to offer him all the flowers in the world, to smell him at his destination. She felt horrible, miserable, thinking that it was because of him that she died. With sincerity, he would say to him: “My friend, your loss is important, but more important is the work you leave behind. It is no use to be sad that we lost you, but to be glad that you were among us. Who knows, I might even follow you tomorrow. A few moments our whole life.
"In a compartment of the train we lived as fellow travelers and companions. We met for a moment, at a stop on the train of life. You go down first, me later. We hold nothing when we get off the train of life, we need no luggage, nothing is ours; we leave everything on the train, to benefit the next."
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