Less was the least. More could have been much more. In whatever path I have walked are long halls emptied out before my arrival. I can’t do a thing other than take a walk and then sit for a while. Rarely somebody comes across and almost never opens his mouth. Whatever I touch is a trap and there’s really no God and the phone will always ring when I am in no position to talk or even pick up the call and talk a few words. ‘Hello!’ ‘No, call the landline! The fucking landline!’ ‘I am not who you want to talk to.’ Fifteen minutes remain. I have run out of time. No time to eat properly. I leave the rice in the case and run away like a lost beast. Nothing much until evening. I am sipping tea and it’s still raining like hell there’s an old love song playing on the wacked radio. I listen and listen and it’s almost hypnotic. I don’t need alcohol, not yet. I order another cup and drink it. Everything is slowly coming back to life and the dead ones won’t be bothered anymore. I get up from my place and pay the tea seller and step onto the flooded road and begin my walk home.
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