One day after a heavy rain, the mute man on the front street fell from a building and suffered a bloody head injury.
I rode my bicycle to go to school, and all I knew was that the ambulance declared the person dead on the spot.
One day after noon, I woke up from the rocking chair and walked into the bookstore on the street half asleep.
I saw the mute talking to the bookstore owner in sign language. He looked normal and his scalp was intact.
One day after dawn, the second floor of Front Street was blazing with flames. As he rushed towards the road, the mute was swept under the car by an oncoming truck.
I stood not far away watching all this, planning the next meeting with him.
·
I was stuck in a death spiral.
I have to find a way to stay alive.
·
Most of the time, we do not exist; some of the time, there is you but not me; some of the time, there is me but not you; some of the time, you and I both exist.
——Borges
[Short suspense/realistic/text third person]
Purpose: live a good life
