Olay!

Que rico, this hombre, this contemplative blood-red matador.  Arms folded, slight frown…

Just killed a bull?  Defaulted on a loan?  Or, surprised by a rueful post postcard (see orange object between legs) depression?  (Is there a troublesome message from vacationing mother, estranged lover, old compadre on the reverse?  (From Majorca? L.A.?)

Does that account for the empty kleenex box?