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The Ego

The man stands up, swaying, bottle in palm, and gazes around the room as the noise slows down, and everybody’s eyes on him. Men pull up their seats, willing to hear the story or the song or whatever. The old man cries with a wild disappointment in his eyes…

The Winter

And the winter will never be cold enough to get the most humiliating and devastating answer till you see it naked, pure, forgotten by artificial snow blowing gently.