I'm leaving tomorrow. I wanted to say goodbye.

Goodbye.

I'd like you to tell me in more detail about the dream you had.

You were fifty years old... and you were happy.

And in this dream, was there someone else?

There was.

Who?

You woke up... and you smiled at someone next to you. I don't know who.

That's what will happen? In twenty-five or thirty years?

Yes.

What else do you know? Who are you?
I feel something important is happening around me. It scares me.
... I was wondering why you mentioned that sailor.

Do you know why?

Yes.
Because you didn't want to tell me something more important.
About the woman that you loved.
She betrayed you.
She betrayed you and you never understood why. And you kept on loving her.

How do you know all of this?

It wasn't hard to guess.
What was she like?

She graduated two years before me.
She was blond, delicate, radiant... with a long neck.
Her clothing and her furniture were all light-colored. In the foyer there was a mirror in a white frame. It was in that mirror, one night, that I saw her white legs spread... with a man between them.
I stopped believing.
Maybe I met the woman.
Maybe you're the woman I never met.

The story doesn't end there.

No.