It was in the middle of this struggle that I realised something shameful. What if I still don’t think of myself, or someone like me, as the main character?
The park is emptier than usual. The light is falling and the grass is already wet with dew.
They have quiet bodies, like cats...
Night is scared to cross the road a bit like me.
I haven’t cried in years.
The second mystery is girls, a mystery that will surely never unravel.
I dreamt today, and on the way down I took a long time without falling far.
People think the sun fell because of them, and them alone.