The Train to Granada

The train left Madrid at six in the morning. Half the seats were empty. Elena chose a window seat and watched the city give way to dry, open fields.

Vlak odišiel z Madridu o šiestej ráno. Polovica sedadiel bola prázdna. Elena si vybrala miesto pri okne a sledovala, ako sa mesto mení na suché, otvorené polia.

A woman sat across from her. She was older — maybe sixty, maybe more — and she had a small bag with a sandwich wrapped in foil. Soon her phone rang. She answered quietly, but the train was very quiet too.

Oproti nej sedela žena. Bola staršia — možno šesťdesiat, možno viac — a mala malú tašku s obloženým chlebom zabaleným v alobale. Čoskoro jej zazvonil telefón. Odpovedala potichu, ale vlak bol tiež veľmi tichý.

"No, I haven't told her yet," the woman whispered. "I will, but not today. Today I just want to see her." A pause. "She doesn't know I'm sick. Please, don't tell her either."

"Nie, ešte som jej to nepovedala," zašepkala žena. "Poviem jej to, ale nie dnes. Dnes ju len chcem vidieť." Pauza. "Nevie, že som chorá. Prosím, ani jej to nehovor."

Elena looked out the window and pretended not to hear. But she could not stop listening. The woman talked for a few minutes more, then hung up and ate her sandwich slowly.

Elena sa pozrela von oknom a predstierala, že nepočuje. Ale nemohla prestať počúvať. Žena hovorila ešte niekoľko minút, potom zložila a pomaly jedla svoj obložený chlieb.

When the train arrived in Granada, the woman stood up and looked at Elena. "I'm going to see my granddaughter," she said, as if explaining something Elena had already asked. "I haven't seen her in a year. Have a good trip."

Keď vlak dorazil do Granady, žena vstala a pozrela na Elenu. "Idem navštíviť svoju vnučku," povedala, akoby vysvetľovala niečo, čo sa Elena už pýtala. "Nevidela som ju rok. Prajem ti šťastnú cestu."

Elena watched her walk down the platform and disappear into the crowd.

Elena ju sledovala, ako kráča po nástupišti a mizne v dave.