He no longer had much desire for games but still took long dives into the water, knowing they were his last, as the sea began to cool down a lot and would soon become dark, wearing its winter veil. That’s how he would leave it, choosing to watch it from afar rather than splash in its foam. He preferred walks along the ridgelines, where he liked to chase the clouds and break them apart, unless many surrounded him to attack and force him into a disorderly flight. Vivian was admiring the sun, tired from the intense summer routes, as well as that old dog who gathered in her yard and lay down late into the afternoon next to the fountain, cursing his old age that no longer allowed him to run carefree through the streets as he had done all these years. He had learned to lazily sunbathe all summer, but for several days now the sun was leaving quickly, and so the black one, Mourgos, unable to bear the chill coming down from the mountain, went and nestled on the back side, under the mulberry tree, since its fallen leaves formed a soft bed that pleased him greatly.
“We’ve grown old, Mourgos… How quickly the years have gone…” Vivian told him, feeling the weight in her legs but also in her soul. Children and grandchildren had already left; she had managed to enjoy them for a few days there in Kalavryta before they were lost in their daily lives and obligations. Although she felt that the coming winter would be harsh, she had decided to stay there, in the beautiful castle of Chelmos, knowing now that she would once again fight her loneliness after the great journey of her beloved husband, Giorgos, who left her lonely and bitter. The cemetery was just two steps away, and she wanted to be close to him, to light his vigil lamp, to say a few words to him, and then start organizing his papers. He was her treasure, her whole life; now a candle remained lit in his memory.