Most of the time Mr Schmidt was looking at the wall opposite to his bed
because, for some reason or an other, he was left in his bed most of the days.
Must be months and years Mr Schmidt looking at this whitewashed wall.
He needed help when eating. Often he coughed very hard,
the food kept going the wrong way.
Mr Engel used to ask: “He” and then he always pointed out to Mr Schmidt
“he can’t eat by himself anymore?”
/ I just wanted him to keep his mouth shut./
And Mr Engel still could eat by himself.
But during his last weeks he felt less and less like doing it.
The day he died, I found a blue garbage bag, containing his clothes,
in the cellar.