As a young man, he had many girlfriends, sometimes several at once. I asked if they knew about each other. He held up a photo from more than fifty years ago – the portrait of a well-coiffed and sharply dressed man. The evidence of his prime.
How beautiful yesterday was, he said.
In a country where yesterday seems endless, I wanted to ask:
Beautiful for who?
Beautiful when? Is it only your youthfulness that you long for?