A lot of things were said about nothing. The dog seemed to understand every word that came out of their mouths. It just sat there catching flies. They went on and on about nothingness. The dog had nothing to do with them. He used to wander around trash cans during the day. He came upon them by chance. They didn't notice the dog till it yawned loudly. Then they started discussing the dog. The dog went to sleep under the bench wondering what they were discussing.
I have to write. Those were the words that escaped the dying man's lips. He was found lying unconscious near a mountain of blank paper. His autopsy revealed over exhaustion as the reason. But what did he want to write so badly that it killed him, no one knows. The task was designated to the junior cop who was part of the investigation team. Let's call him Namura. So here we are with Namura in a room with the mountain of blank paper. He is awed as to why should there be so many papers near a dying man. He picks a sheet on the top. He studies it. It's as blank as blank papers can be. No pencil or pen has violated its virgin whiteness. Namura thinks of the white bed sheets back home. He is tired. All he wants is to crash on his bed. He feels angry about the whole situation. Here I am, staring at a blank piece of paper, wondering why someone who wanted to write so badly didn't write a single word, while the whole world is sleeping on their comfy beds. He wanted to tear the ...
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