A boy s'addentra for the human lands. Move your search to the adamantine Peace that has always inspired. At each step, however, here it is doubt and despair in her eyes you can tell the object of his desire from the usual filth. The land is crossed by countless men from these pits and the smell of hot sal rot: I am a stay of the parasites, intent to be consumed from time immemorial. Who wants to bring in some other places to sink in that the soles Ooze. And there is no hope of anything other than eat human brother exhausted most of the other, helpless and desperate, he gets food who does not see his fear and disavows his face.
And so a certain time of the boy crossing the streets in force, armed, and all of a beggar. He has not and does not ask for hope: scared hiding in the folds of his ragged coat. Expect the next moment every second, without thinking more thrills and cries for nothing but to fly off his head from his neck. But the ideals aliens push the boy to avoid such a fratricide. And the beggar to the next question him to keep his blade, said it was not that it is food that smells like dead meat on its own. Her eyes empty and reflect off the image of the boy away, do not understand how hard ancestral move those legs between bedbugs and cockroaches, among traps and carcasses.
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