For a week before the operation, Nunez did not sleep. Day after day, others in the village slept, but he walked about in the bright sunlight and thought about the operation. Then at last, the day before the operation came. He spent a few minutes with Medina-Sarote before she went to bed.
‘Tomorrow,’ he said, ‘I shall see no more.’
‘Dearest sweetheart,’ she said and squeezed his hand. ‘The operation will only hurt a little. One day I will repay you.’
Nunez felt nothing but pity – for himself and for her. He held her in his arms, kissed her, and looked into her sweet face. `Goodbye,’ he said. Then in silence, he turned away.
Medina- Sarote could hear his footsteps as they retreated. Something in their sound made her cry.
Nunez wanted to be alone. There was a quiet place in the meadows, a place with thick green grass and narcissus flowers. He went and lay down. ‘I will stay here until it is time,’ he thought. Then he fell asleep. When morning came, Nunez lifted his eyes to the rising sun. It rose above the mountains. ‘It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,’ he thought. Nunez got up and started to walk. It was a new day, it was his last day of sight, and there was beauty everywhere.
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