__He whispers in my ears with softly kindness. The rain shuts up the fireworks's booms, and a low sound of an harmonica echoes, smoothly. No one stayed in the flats, all of them had rather go to the beach, jump seven (in the case of Laerte's God, only six, 'cause He rests in the seventh) waves.
__The world began, again. And I'm just here, quite reckless about the blow of events, just having tickles in my ears, wondering about something rather inconceivable.
__This almost emptyness of thoughts, this sensation of floating in something warm and velvet is quite pleasant, even with a touch of gloom.
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I'm not quite sure what's happened to my world; lucky you at least to know yours have began again... "/
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