---

He stood stuck in midst the countless swallowed by its ugliness. Heard it screaming and raging. Revulsion glued to his lips.

Saw the changing shadows sink upon the human dreariness.

Thought how can one believe to love a pile of dusty stones. As if hugged by steel arms his fate became absurd. Through disgust and hate he was pushed back in his dreary walls.

Beginning to follow useless dreams which grow to lunacy for the lack of their fulfilment in a world of ordinariness. Disgust and hate.

So all the town had to give was an endless poverty covered by a grey haze of constant mediocrity, by a dead ocean over which the black watchmen fly.

Contaminated air was drenched with excrements and sweat. And so his story was not a symbolic case of thoughts nor the eternal faith in love and mercy but reality.

And what would be more real than hell, what would be more just? What would be more fairer and so merciless as hell.