Calf Hurts In Ski Boot

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There was little to watch on TV that night. Just to read, a library and even a full book, as if to say that they did not want to affect anything. It was sheer boredom, a world of boredom. Going out? "No I'm busy tonight!" Was the unison reply, from one week to one part, certainly came to the wake, but then disappeared. All. It hurt all that solitude, but a house without his usual screaming was weird. Not to say that he put to silence, there was no need now, they were all silent in the soul and it is not playing with the dog or philosophize about the market, why the world was falling apart, about why Auditors did not come back to why we should all die in duemiladodici. Sure
a house without him was sad, and unable to bear more of the silence he took the coat and rushed there in the darkness of the night, alone.
"Nowhere to go, to get away from that absurd silence .." He thought, "No person in the world who can understand what I am now trying, no one that I can help you feel better. No reason to continue to move after all. "
had already come a long way from home, in your ears with a slow, melodic music that seemed to be made specifically for certain moments .. "The highway is alive tonight .. .." sang the voice deep and underneath a slight sound of an accordion, and he was transported around a campfire, warming himself with people dressed in rags, without fear of the cold. Then he opened his eyes.
"And if .. Everything is shut down? "It was on
of a bridge, there were so many in a town like that, which seemed to calm hung over the water, on which you could spread a pale moon, whose reflection stretched to the horizon beyond the most distant boats. No street light there, with its shining light that had made them all disappear. He knew they were there to bring comfort to some lost dog or to disturb the sleep of a homeless man nearby, but simply could not see them. His eyes looked at the reflection of the moon, if only to raise them would have liked to be groped for an outrage too great, had no right to look at certain splendor, now that he was lost in the dark. He had no right to look people in their happiness, and normalcy in their hatred, now that he could no longer feel these emotions. And then looking at the sea. Fall would be easy, but watched the sea, perhaps the toughest choice of his life.
There, perfect, melancholy, to give a reflection of a reality that did not have the courage to look, that's why the sea was going so well. And then he understood. There was something worse than what was happening to him, had lost everything in life as "an item" and was now totally alone with his thoughts.
But it was there, and the world would not be finished for him, not even his.
"Because I believe that the end of the world," he said, "will be when we no longer have to look at a sea, a place to breathe, and someone to think about."