When I first saw my nephew that day, I recognised him at once. He had not changed at all. Perhaps he looked like a bigger, more mature copy of himself when he was still a child. The only difference was that he no longer wore neat clothes. He seemed a bit anxious. We had not seen each other for years so it was not that strange. From what I had learned, he was working in a wood factory and lived quite frugally. I immediately decided we"d better stay in the cafe. There was no need to visit him at home. I put the gold bullion on the table. Of course it was packed in a cotton bag so that other customers could not see what it really was. I told him that was the part he whad inherited. He looked puzzled, to be honest, and didn"t say a word for a long time, then changed the subject a bit. He asked me how my father was doing and if my daughter had already finished university. I decided not to talk about his gold if that was what he wished. Perhaps he was too shocked or he did not believe his life was going to change now. Then he thanked me and went home. I got on the train and returned to the city. It was exactly a year ago and we have not got in touch since that day. I sometimes think about my poor nephew and try to imagine what he has done with his gold bullion. Perhaps he has not made any decisions yet.
