You’re
alone.
Passing
by the fountain, there’s a silhouette, a small one. It starts to talk. You listen.
-You're
going to die. Today.
You
can’t assimilate the words right away, they just ring in your brain like a
bell, in stereo.
-Listen. Be careful. You're
going to die. Today. Believe me.
“Believe
me”, the concept roars, like the first thunder your hear in your life, coated
by a primal meaning. “The act of trusting someone or something”
Complex. Too complex.
-Fuck
you.
You're
in the floor. Your jeans wet from the moss. You’re alone.