Vagava for the city for the past three days. It was always night. The doors were closed. There were more colors in that city, only the white of the halogen lights that made its way through a few windows have not yet darkened, families who were still asleep right in the republican spirit. He was awake for some time and we could not sleep anymore. "In a world of gray matter and night sleep?" wondered to himself, aloud. It would have been easier to like them, wait for better days, waiting for the landing forces of the great democracies. But all was silent, all was still. Do not pull even more of a breath of wind, in that city. The track has always been gray, like the ancient Roman roads, gray as a mule in the mountains, was the only thing not to be changed. "Come to think of first in the world of things there were gray, maybe if we were there, we were too colorful to think about the gray, black, white," he exclaimed. Do not think, speak. Perhaps they had already made up there was crazy, maybe they considered it an anomaly in a perfect system, maybe a jester who wanted to go back to ancient times, where the minstrels were worth but little something. But he was lucid, polished like the reflections of light in a gray city. You had to see how the gleaming city, was formidable. When you turn on the Moon, in those nights halogen, everything sparkled, especially the corners of the houses. Wire discovered exhaled the last breath of a past life, those little noises analog sottilineavano ejaculations exuberant. It smelled of coffee in the streets, the aroma of distant lands, the only form of resistance, perhaps the last helping hand to the Free Human Consciousness. He came to the end of his seventy-fifth tour of the city, nothing new had happened. "The first lady called her son to dinner when it started Scherzo, Mr. 2 has blasphemed the fifth goal made by his team in a match delayed by a few years ago, the baby laughed for the three usual beat of a talking dog Made in Japan, the guy has ejaculated 7 umpteenth orgasm of Chasey Lane, Mr. 15 has infervoarato facing the fiery words of chairman of the have-nots against the party, now dead for 21 years. Everything is always the same and I'm ready for the seventy-sixth lap. Here Mondolibero. It's your line. "
was the fifteenth month since the cloud that enveloped the world that had disappeared. That part of the world. There remained only small waves in the ether infinite, a few frequencies that those worms are doing enough. He would die as the Mondolibero anchorman of our small, without knowing how it would end. His life ended at cinquantamillesimo around the city.
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