DQ 11

"Don," The man in the nice suit said.  The rain had come and he had added his hat and held his hands clasped before him.
Don Q continued raking, as if completely oblivious.
"We are all worried about you.  Even Jen..."
Don Q ignored this and a number of over pleas.  Even the tentative touch on his shoulder failed to get his attention from his raking.
After the conversation was over, the man in the suit shrugged.  He looked to Seventy.  "Is he always like this."
Seventy throught of the strange sculptures that were supposed to be taking shape as motorcycles.  "Not exactly like this senor, sometimes he is worse."
"Do you need anything?"
"No, not that I can think of."
"Will you stay with him?"
"As much as I can Senor.  I have a family you see..."
"I understand, thank you for doing what you can." the man said and turned away.
"How is she?" Don Q said.  The man in the suit froze.  He turned back slowly, but Don was raking and he turned back as if unsure what he had heard.
Then again, "How is she?"
"She is fine, Don.  She might want to hear from you."
"No," he was raking again, "she made the only choice she could.  She does not want to hear from me, but I will not forget her and I will dedicate my life to her memory."
"What does that mean?  Why would you do something as absurd as that?"
There was no reply.
"Don, I need you.  You left a desk full of work that isn't complete, your clients are looking for you."  But he could tell it was wasted effort, Don was raking leaves in the rain and paid him no more attention than if he had been a ghost.