Some found ones would surrender to pain and would be reported in the obituary column the next day.
But I would have to finish my coffee and move on, because my common life wouldn't allow me violence as an alternative. I would continue with my happy day, take a trip and when I returned days, months or years later, the list of missing people in the newspaper would have only increased.
But Alexandra would be fine and Lorenzo would have children with his new wife, because I decided to leave, unable to bear living based on what they traced for me on the damn Wheel of Fortune.
And I close the damn newspaper, before even reading it.
Everything is wrong.
Staring again at the sky in the middle of a dark road, I realize that I was free all this time and was just too distracted to notice the sin
