He stares into the darkness. He tells himself he wouldn't mind if he saw ghosts or UFOs in the night, for these will prove that there are things outside the realm of normal. He blames the gods and the heavens for his lot. He thinks about how he could get back to the world that kept him in the dark while favoring othes who, in his opinion, deserve less than him. He takes another sip. He breaths another puff. He continues to stare into the darkness with nothing but the gut wrenching feeling that his time is almost over. He feels it inside, he doesn't have any other option but to admit defeat and swear that he will get back to all the things not rightfully accorded to him.
He gets messages. One message tells him to go out and treat himself to an ice cream. Another message tells him there are problems back in his home country. He decides to follow the first message. He doesn't need another reminder of his problems. He's had enough reminders. It comes on a daily basis and continues to push him towards insanity. Tonight, no one understands him. His burden is like a work of art he spent hundreds of years to complete, only to be met by unappreciative glances and remarks on where he could've done better. He takes another sip and breathes another puff of smoke.
Tonight, he will recall everything. Tonight, he will start from the very beginning. He takes his last sip and breathes his last smoke.
Tonight, his words will come to life.
