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That’s why the two of them went on their way. That’s why they came here: to the city, to the man.

That’s why she died.

Randomness: life is a chain of accidents.

Regularity: people trying to help in small things do not notice how they hurt in big things.

They cried when they found her. Dead. They cried. But do tears change anything?

Their fault.

Their fault!

Why does this world put up with what they do to it?!

The same song cuts through the crowd’s clamor again.

…tausend Sonnen brennen nur für dich…

Spring

Erlöse dich***

He’ll have to go, even if it’s without her.

Make their usual way for both of them. To worship the flourishing of that land as bequeathed by their nature.

It’s time. It’s time.

He opens towards the wind, clinging to its flow.

The fall… and the rise.

He makes a sharp turn and crosses the river and heads north, away from the city, into the night that engulfs its silhouette.

***

«Will he jump or not? Do you think he will?» the guy tosses the empty cup into the trash. «It should come out beautifully, I think.»