The Philosopher

There was an obscure darkness in the atmosphere, where clouds slowly mounted, conjoining as water was threatening soaking the concrete bellow.

A distracted individual, destined for home after what can only be deemed as a restless working day, slowly forced one leg after the other.

All the while, as the venture proceeded, no matter was perceived, rather, each element of this, depressed, obsessed, human’s considerations was abstract, a doubt of the I, a query in to the why and a certification of the how... where the brain interiorized distressing thoughts, and no concrete was there existent.

The air teased the city, as the odor of the humid was ever-present, but rain was not yet to drop...

His black suit’s tie was loosened, hair distorted, eyes transported heavy, intense, black lines beneath them, the formers ached like the rest of his head. Torture echoed throughout the intellectualizations, continuous and graver.

The exhausted person, on entering the door to his rented habitation, simply murmured to himself: “Where? Why? What? How? Which?”. Five elemental questions, for no answer exists for their satisfactory response, merely confoundment, impossibility and, ultimately, failure. They profoundly deteriorated the mind of the subject...

Ahhh... finally rain initiated its descendence to the earth from the vast skies above, where all appears calmer, in the thunderous conditions.

The damned miserable being, defeated, surrendered to superiority and incomprehension, wrote on a paper: “Where are you Master?”. Flowingly grasping the wire of his scarcely utilized telephone, wrapping the spiral chord around his neck, and strangling until psychological torture was also finite.

Now downed the lightning thunder!