Roberto Bolano - The Skating Rink

When I finally returned to Z, it was all so different that my first thought was: I must have taken a wrong turn. For a start, no one recognized me, which was amazing, given that for several weeks I had been the talk of the town, and it was hard to believe that the whole business had been forgotten so quickly. Secondly, many of the buildings and streets in Z looked unfamiliar, as if the townscape had been modified in subtle but distressingly noticeable ways: the storefronts seemed to be elements in a vast camouflage operation; the bare trees were not where they should have been, and in some streets the flow of the traffic had altered substantially. But as I got out of the car, I noticed that City Hall presented the same imperturbable façade, although Pilar was no longer mayor (she had been easily beaten in the last election) and I was no longer her trusty factotum. I came to the bittersweet understanding that the institution would remain the same in spite of changing circumstances, or to put it another way: even though human beings like Pilar and myself were prepared to give our all and sacrifice our careers in the attempt to bring about change, nothing could shift the venerable and senseless stones of City Hall. Having realized that, it was easier to accept the transformation of the town. In any case, applying the principle of caution, which I had recently come to appreciate in prison, all I did was have a drink in a bar and use the washroom, then walk along the Paseo Marítimo to stretch my legs a bit, before going back to the car. Was I tempted to visit the Palacio Benvingut? Well, the simplest answer would be no, or yes. To tell the truth, I did drive out that way, but that’s all. There’s a curve in the highway on the way to Y, from which you can see the cove and the palace. When I got there I braked, turned around and drove back to Z. What good would it have done me, going there? I would only have been adding to the sum of pain. Besides, in winter, it’s a sad place. The stones I remembered as blue were grey. The paths I remembered as bathed in light were strewn with shadows. So I braked, made a U-turn and drove back to Z. I avoided looking in the rearview mirror until I was a safe distance away. What’s gone is gone, that’s what I say, you have to keep looking ahead. .