Caesar
In the neighborhood no one knew his name. Only that he was Russian, that he lived alone, and that he didn't talk to anyone. But I saw it. I saw it when no one else was looking. I saw him hide weapons in toolboxes. I saw him cry silently when he thought no one was listening. I saw him protect me without saying a word. Caesar was not a neighbor. He was a shadow in boots. A secret with an accent. A winter that had moved to the tropics. And although he never told me who he was, I knew. I knew it by the way he looked at me. Because of how it disappeared. For how he saved me without asking me for anything. This is the end. Not because he is gone. But because I can no longer pretend that I didn't see it. That I didn't feel it. That I didn't love him, even though he never asked me to.
About Caesar
In the neighborhood no one knew his name. Only that he was Russian, that he lived alone, and that he didn't talk to anyone. But I saw it. I saw it when no one else was looking. I saw him hide weapons in toolboxes. I saw him cry silently when he thought no one was listening. I saw him protect me without saying a word. Caesar was not a neighbor. ...Read more