And since neither she nor I could, at the time, imagine an old man, we started laughing and then we made love like crazy- (36). In his youth, death seems far, if not fictional "all he has is his whole life ahead of him. The narrator has a purpose at this point, and this is why he doesn't need to generate his obsession. When he loses his purpose, being his prospective life, he gives himself a new purpose, his prospective death. .
At fifty, he begins to wonder again, about that ticking clock, and his scheduled time. When he is on his first plane trip in his seventies, he believes it's his lucky day when it seems that the plane will soon crash. He sits in peace as the whole world around him panics "all the passengers fear death as it stares them in the eye, yet he rejoices for the very same reason. When devoid of its nebulous shield, death is his not much of a foe.
As he ages, death leaves its looming signs-my collarbone (as I lose my flesh) is like an anchor hanging over the side of a ship; the occipital bone makes my head look like a coconut bashed in with a sledgehammer- (38). Strangely, he detachedly observes the decay of his body "a repulsive image violently conveyed to the reader ", but does not seem to care for the loss of his vivacity. He fears only one aspect of death: that it may surprise him. .
In his deathbed, he ponders this while observing his father's portrait. Like death, it sits before him, imposing, unpredictable. Seventy-three years ago, his father put the narrator face-to-face with his mother's death, made him kiss it. When the old man is in his deathbed, the reader cannot determine the veracity of his observations: "That is, the stranger and his face were either among the many objects that populate my bedroom, or among the many ghosts that populate my head- (38). The reader must question Pinera's intentions in adding supernatural elements. "Then I understood that this stranger was the one who was coming to save me.