The rain glides among the twisted branches of chestnut trees grew on either side of the avenue now pockmarked with puddles in which no one is reflected for a moment the clouds swift and angry. The old under the umbrella white spotted mutt follows the other end of an elastic leash blue. The old circumnavigates the puddles, sometimes stopping in front of businesses too difficult while the old mongrel draws circles hunting among the trees. A trace invisible draws him down a narrow side path drawn in the mud and that bends hiding in the bushes. The mutt turns and asks permission. "Okay, okay ... I go I have to mess eh?" The old man wearing a raincoat clear that once filled completely, but now only yy sporcarselo to please his dog-friend- company. "Come on, come on, come on." The umbilical cord then blue curtains of losing stretch with a slight hiss behind the curve in the bushes dragged by instinct that stops the mutt sniffs the air with its snout inelegant and continues to drag the leash. Reluctantly the old gray raincoat under the umbrella you drag. Now owner and dog are in the trees and the air wet behind them crowd suddenly. Slender shadow across the avenue to large strides. "These here also run in the rain. Must be some kind of drug. "The mongrel begins to bark with her little coughs that indicate serious impatience. "Arrival, arrival." Silence. The blue cord collapses, then suddenly reduced and the bastard took refuge behind the knees to lower ears of old. "What is it Billy? What have you found? "Suddenly the rain increases in intensity, knock sull'ombrello after managing to slip through the branches embraced at the top. The path fades in the distance behind the curtain of water. Billy turns around nervous, thin curved tail between his legs, the smell of fear and even the touch of the old able to get used to. "What is it? What have you found? "The old man kneels muddy the edge of the raincoat. "Have no fear I'm here. Let's go see about ... " Billy does not react to the gentle tug of the leash. The old man looks stroking his shaven cheek, turn to the path that lies between the bushes and disappeared among trees that do not remember the name. Billy starts to cry. The old man inhales deeply as he did in a few nights of his youth, when deciding not meant to die and decide inguaiarsi. Ties the leash to the trunk closer and caress the ears of Billy "Great guard dog you are. Wait here and you're good. " Billy's eyes follow the umbrella of liquids and the old man away. The passage of the old became oddly resolute. Years of Fear Factory have made something to think about after the end of the story when can no longer paralyzed because the moment and the past and if you do not as if nobody notices. The steps of the old curved path. Mud, trees, rain. "Hey Billy, there's nothing here." A few more steps because the old do not think that Billy may have scared at all, must have smelled something, maybe a dead cat. Nothing. Wet logs, mud and rain of course that slides around. And a voice that flows in between.
"... no one sees ... No one is looking." The old man looks up and clears the male voice, the dome of the umbrella to try to move around the source of those words and so warm drops of rain streaming down her face smearing the red raincoat and then the pupils dilate. This item has been spewed from a naked crucified man among the branches high. His eyes cry blood from empty sockets that look beyond the rain. The old follows the direction of the gaze of the crucifix hung soft and discovers other figures with other trees introns. Two, three, four sacks of pale flesh and blood dripping wet, forming a circle in which more and more feeble voice bounces "None see ... no .... " Silence of rain. On the path farther Billy barks of shame. He remembered the loyalty betrayed, the old finally sinks in fear. His legs are bent and not realize it, leaving the old man sitting in the crucified blind.
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