Her name was Rosalind

– Please, can you visit my mum? She would really appreciate this – a young woman with big eyes asked me. I agreed. I agreed because of those eyes. They were staring at me with this desperate question mark hanging between us in the thick air. Therefore I agreed.

Rosalind was lying in a bed. Her face was so pale that the colour of the white bedding seemed to be gray. Her eyes were closed but when she heard my steps she opened them. She looked at me, with all her consciousness and curiosity. Her pupils were huge, probably because of the medicines she had been given. The intense shade of blue, or rather navy, of her iris's embarrassed me. It didn’t match to her nearly translucent skin and petite body. Her eyes were too determined to belong to  such weak flesh. She looked at the chair next to her bed so I sat down.

– I was waiting for you; my daughter told me that you would come – an old woman with the biggest eyes I had ever seen said. I nodded, looking straight in those eyes. I tried to say something but for a moment I was speechless, enchanted, hypnotized, so she carried on.

– She had a wedding last Sunday. It was a lovely celebration and she looked so beautiful. I wanted her to be happy but I believe that because of me she couldn't.

– No, Rosalind, it’s not true – I disagreed but the words didn't come to me easily – I talked to your daughter earlier and she was so pleased that you could be with her during this special moment. She showed me the pictures – you both looked absolutely amazing. You need to be proud of her.

– I am, but I'm not proud of myself. I cause so many problems to people around. – Her eyes became darker – It’s challenging to stay with me now. It’s challenging for people who love me, don’t you think so?

– Life is a challenge, Rosalind. Everything we need to face is a challenge. But that’s the sense of us being here. – I said, despite the fact that I didn’t know what to say.

Rosalind smiled. She touched my hand, squeezed it very gently then she looked at me even more intensely than before – Do you know what Franz Kafka said? Let me quote him to you: The meaning of life is that it stops – she said as if she fully agreed with this statement. She opened her eyes widely – 

– What do you think?

I agreed because of these eyes. They were staring at me with this desperate exclamation mark hanging between us in the thick air. Therefore I agreed.

She closed her eyes.

She died a few days later.