And then a tear trickles down the cheek. Only a small drop of water but with so much weight. I observe it as the tear goes its own way down just to stop so hard.

It is so very strange and replaces my deep sadness for a brief moment in mere fascination. The tear shimmers in the light as beautiful as it is ugly.

I wonder which reason there is for it. I can not think of a single one.

And then I wonder why no idea strikes me.

I move from this swaying mass that seems to suck me deep down for a moment on solid ground.

The question of why employs me more for a moment than anything else. It’s not curiosity, it’s something else. It’s something I can not explain to myself and what surprises me so much.

There it is and threatens to fall. I reach out and catch the tear with my finger. It is wet and so fragile that it immediately breaks into pieces. I can feel the salty water on my finger.

It feels light, although I know that it weighs so much.

The tear is gone, but the watery path on the cheek points the way it took.

Under the lane, I can see every single pore of the skin. The skin is so pure and beautiful – just like the heart underneath.

Why does this wonderful person just believe in me?

I will never understand why tears taste salty.