Epilogue – The Return of the Drummer.
The old man finished his lunch and stared out for a while out through the wide window of the paladar. It was just about noon and the restaurant was at this time of the day only half full. . Salsa music played at a reasonable noise level, from a radio with tinny speakers, on a nearby shelf. He drank the little coffee left in the cup and lit a cigar. The cigar was a new habit. How and when he picked up the habit he was not entirely sure. It was sufficient nevertheless that the object fitted the environment. Did he arrive here in Havana the previous day? Two days ago? Three days ago? He could never really remember. He was constantly in transit. Next week he could be in Brasilia, or Caracas, or even back home. He puffed gently on the cigar. It was an e
