This morning was the last time I was here and met the little man.

The first time was three months ago. I’d gone to that ticket counter and bought my ticket to Zurich from this little man with the big eyes. There was something strange about meeting this little man with his big, calm eyes. Even when I went back to buy a ticket the next day, he was there again – this little man with the big, calm eyes, who greeted me so warmly. This week I travelled to Zurich every day. And every day, the little man was there. He always looked at me warmly. Each time, my gaze met his big, calm eyes, which looked at me so directly and openly. And when I went back outside afterwards, I felt refreshed.

After that week, I no longer needed to travel to Zurich. But every day I found myself drawn back to that ticket counter, to that little man. So I simply bought tickets to places very close by. And each time, I lingered a little longer in the little man’s big eyes, which let me be so calmly. And time and again afterwards, I had the feeling as though something old had fallen away from me.

When I arrived today, I didn’t know which ticket to buy. So I simply went over and looked into the little man’s big, empty eyes for a long time. Suddenly, he began to speak in his calm, friendly voice, this time with a strange smile playing around his mouth: ‘You know that the last ticket is free, don’t you?’ I looked at him, puzzled and questioning.

“Today you’ll receive the ticket to yourself,” he said.
So I left him. Tears of joy at both parting and arrival welled up in my eyes.

© Chandra Mäder