the news came in late, a local football player had committed suicide without an obvious reason. i worked late and we started shifting things around at the newspaper making room for the sad story. it kicked in and like robots we took the story through its paces: police, biography. we made it just in time. only after things were done, i realized that i only met him some days ago. a little boy on his lap he was sitting in a café where astrid and i had breakfast. he looked happy.
i believe.