Mr. Lonely #16/21

It was Saturday, March 12, and a man was sitting on a stool near a wall in a room of his house that he had not been in for a long time. The day was sunny but the autumn breeze was already approaching. Outside the house the mulberry tree was almost without fruit, its leaves dry and malnourished due to lack of water. Just before he left, the man reluctantly reached into a dusty drawer for a cigarette, lighter and a rusty key. Upon arriving in the room the man was immediately seized by memories of a not too distant past. Without thinking much, he pulled the stool to one of the corners, close to the wall of the shuttered window. Institutionally he reached into his right pocket, grabbed a cigar...View all