A man goes out. Walk. No one knows how people think, what contentment or anxieties, delusions of grandeur or modest projects spark inside. You may not think of anything special. Perhaps only experience that simply exist, with their flats. Perhaps thinking goes somewhere and that knowing where you are excited. The stone does not know where it comes. Given in the temple. Fully.
The man takes a step or two, and collapses. Bleed profusely. Without theatrics, however. It is a silent waterfall, spacious. For the open wound is leaking the images, feelings, will.
Words and
its threads.
Time does not seem to spend a single storey, single of humanity demolished.
The man is not dead. Not die. Somehow realize. But I realize not relieved. Their reactions are disrupted. Is incorporated. Try to resume. First, staggering. He touches his temple and watch the fingers stained dark silk. Puce red replaced the pain. It could also be everywhere, lurking.
Smile. The pain is watered by the nerves of the face, gradually but quickly, as the lights of a Christmas tree.
Their attempts to keep the smile lead to a grin.
When you reach the corner, the warmth of the blood was confused with tears. He wipes his fingers on his pants, as if they were just wet with sweat, and advances. I have trouble keeping your head up, panting. He struggles to focus his eyes. And as if not knowing what else to do, smile.
A man who foes crop has been planted a stone, it is said, pushing the mournful smile where the corners to allow it.
Strives to bring back his last thought, her heartbeat and that nobody knew and that he seemed to scream with your whole body, minutes ago.
Some kind of joy, a treasure.
But instead, the stone comes, again and again. Sickness of soul interrupted in the middle of swallowing.
The man is stunned, so stunned that not enough to know.
And stunning is not made of bitterness or grief.
His stunning concern is screening for the soul of her attacker. Metaphysical dread for the deep that a stone in his career, can reveal two human beings. Anguish of not knowing who, how, where, why this stone.
Surprise. Accuracy the coup. The sudden despair of being lost in the middle of town. Expatriate balance.
up man as he can. Although stumbles sometimes pretend achieved some stability. Pretend that has not happened. And pretend it very well because no one asks what happened, no one offers help. No one stops to see happen in that state, nobody is looking. As if a man bleeding outside the normal thing in the world.
fail at some point you stop the forces and fight to keep hold of their own name, so that, if called, would not turn. Sense syllables and kneaded with its history is going for the pocket, zigzagging in the ether along with the rest. You need the energy that usually cling to them so that the legs did not waver.
started to sing, softly, to see what is inside. And discover it does not recognize, that even includes the music coming from his throat.
Christmas lights again regársele his face. Afraid, but not enough to know. The helplessness does not emanate from within. Craves a breath exhaled from the walls, the open sky.
And if it were free? What if there was deliberate?
There is no better or worse. Something I did not choose, which chose him him. A stone that continues through the air. Breaking an illusory border between the self and what surrounds it.
The man shudders, pushed into a stronghold tris their animal, it would seem that no idea, but feels. That only feels Springs barred its rationality. An endless train of thought used to be his shield against the hostility or sympathy towards the bridge. Unarmed, their meat is sensed at the mercy of any nonsense.
occasionally raises his hand and paddle on the cheek with the back, trying to maintain composure. Judging by the results, who l or saw that his arm would end in a razor blade, not five fingers flickering.
But nobody notices, nobody says.
A man is bleeding from the street, in broad daylight, the light escaping in spurts through a hole in your head, you do not know why or who did. Nobody looks. Nobody has seen anything. The light is camouflaged in the light, blur.
