This is the last entry in the notebook journal Henry Schnautz started on the bus ride from Monterrey to Mexico City. It is undated, but it comes after the previous entry dated Aug 10. Henry stops in mid-sentence. Trotsky was attacked Aug 20, 1940. He died the following day.
The sky is beautifully blue. The heaps of white clouds pile up along the mt. tops like snow peaks rising heavenward. The Sleeping Woman and Popo are however much clearer and brighter than the others. The white snow on their peaks, brighter than the clouds above which they majestically rise, are a constant inspiration. The willowy drooping branches of the stately eucalyptus trees lining the riverbank seem streaked with tears. The tears coursing down my cheeks. From where I'm standing guard the world seems bright and spring-like. The lawn is deep green, the flowers gay and perfumed. The whole city a panorama of beauty. My throat is sore. My voice chokes when I speak. My heart is being squeezed dry as tears
