At home alone by C. Buddingh'

At home alone Stientje has gone to Eindhoven for two days. I'm at home alone, well: besides Sam and Peerke: also excellent company, but it's just like everything is dulled. The chairs and tables, though long familiar, like surly strangers surround me. I've even no appetite for Montherlant or Auden. I just pour myself another glass of whisky. Such an empty bedroom in your own house: it's as if you're prowling through a mausoleum. I pick up a bottle with still some 'Je reviens' in it and shake a little drop on my wrist. Now I can still smell her a bit. O, dear God, return her home save and sound.  (Original title: 'Alleen in huis' -from the collection 'De tweede zestig', 1979 - Uitgeverij De Bezige Bij, Amsterdam)

C. Buddingh' [1918-1985]