Five minutes later, I walked to his bookcase, positioning myself from the photograph in my hand. He glanced at me with some irritation as if I had kept him waiting, before he continued. He told me that the bitterness about his being singled out for persecution had voided all his assurances and allegiances. I heard him saying: One central question with no easy answers. Just one. And the misery begins. He lowered his head. But you know all of this already. I am saying nothing new.
I told him I was happy he had decided to reveal himself. He took his time to reply. He said when a person lives alone for too long, he ceases to exist. He must have seen my skepticism because he immediately added that it is only our interaction with others that gives us a being. This seemed quite silly, this view
