Once, feeling quite fed up with humans in general, I went out for a walk. I lived at the time near a long stretch of graveyards, rows of immemorial columns, and fallen flowers.
It was raining; the sky was dark in the form that concludes from the unique combination of dying afternoon sun and heavy clouds. Early that day, it had been warm, a warmth with a coolness at its center, the light disparate drops of rain only serving to fill the atmosphere out, like a giant pillow, sinking into a bed. It was a quiet rain, a restful rain. A breeze, which made no sound and quivered no leaves, glided through the world. And on this afternoon, I chose to take a walk.
The world I had previously come from burdened me. It was filled with emptiness, lying lives. There was a distinct lack of common sense and substance in their speech. And I wondered, was I alone? Was there anyone else who through