Mr. Wirth

[Alan Sondheim]

Mr. Wirth


Mr. Wirth, I said, a penny for your thoughts.

Wirth slowly turned in my direction, his face blank, whiskey in hand.

Aye, that you should know less than that, he replied. Some things let to 
quieten, I believe.

I couldn't answer. Ever since Wirth appeared in the midst of our little group, 
things hadn't been the same. It was difficult to figure precisely what the 
matter was, or to be sure, what the matter was with Wirth, but there was matter 
to be sure.

I murmured something about the weather, only to be met, once again, by silence.

And silence ruled the little bar on the heights overlooking the sea, until I 
shuffed my chair about, and left the premises. The long path home beckoned me, 
and I would be at the worries, once again.

_