Trieste
Published in Issue #10 Translated from Hebrew by Jessica Cohen subscribe to unlock the full storyHe is an old man. Years ago, when he first came here, he thought it would be different. In the restaurant where he ate his first meal, he stayed on to work as a waiter. The owner, Gabriel, tied an apron around his waist and sent him to clean tables. Now, after thirty-five years, they despise one another. At the end of a profitable evening long ago, Gabriel whispered to him that one day he would pass on the restaurant to his most loyal employee, since his sons were studying architecture far away and scorned the restaurant business. But later, unnerved, they returned from their studies, grabbed their aprons and seized the management.
Gabriel is not yet dead, and every day he descends the twenty steps from his apartment to the restaurant. His morning coffee and roll await him on a table. Thirty-five years, and still, since his first day here, Gabriel gives him the privilege of serving the owner his first meal of the day.
Every night he is the last to leave, and the restaurant closes up and becomes an answerless riddle. The first to arrive in the morning, he inserts the key into the lock to unravel it. The kitchen workers arrive shortly thereafter, then the waiters. Gabriel comes down, sips his coffee, and berates the sleepy waiters.
The dawn hours are kind to him. Red stoves, heat, and somnolence. The coffee percolating through the employees’ blood fills the restaurant with good spirits. All day long they look only to...
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