Post by account_disabled on Dec 11, 2023 5:48:54 GMT
Ministrator's eyes made him understand that the man thought he was crazy. Maybe he thinks I haven't recovered yet, he told himself. “Be careful,” the man repeated. "Until we meet again." He doesn't believe me either, he said to himself. Nobody believes me. He spent the following days looking for work in the morning - he asked shops, supermarkets, restaurants if they needed staff, but always in vain - and in the afternoon he sat in the lounge waiting for the day to end. The phenomena, previously limited to the evening hours, had been occurring at any time for some time.
Unpredictable in their absurdity. It was an evening at the end of March when he was reading a book on the sofa and his hand began to tremble. In reality she immediately noticed that it wasn't a tremor, but a movement. An involuntary movement. Or, rather, it wasn't his will that commanded the hand. The limb rose up, showing the palm, closing and Phone Number Data opening suddenly. Then he fell back onto the couch, clutching the fabric as if he wanted to tear it. Remo saw his nerves tense, then the fist came out and hit him in the eye. I scream. He ran into the kitchen, grabbed some ice, wrapped it in a towel and placed it over his eye. He returned to the room and sat down with his hand pressed to his face. I'll get black, he said to himself. Who cares. The next morning, in the bathroom, he observed his image in the mirror, the three-day beard, the deepening dark circles, the increasing white hair and the dark spot on the eye.
She washed and went back to the room to get dressed. He decided not to go out until his eye healed. He wouldn't have made a good impression looking like that. He drank coffee for breakfast and went to the living room. The day passed without apparent incident, except for some objects moving or noises in other rooms. He read a book lying in bed and around 11pm he went to sleep. The cell phone alarm rang. He remembered turning it off after returning from the hospital. He checked the time. It was 3 o'clock. "Shit." He turned off the phone. He felt the hand move on its own again. She cursed under her breath. The movements also extended to the other and then to her legs. On the bed he seemed to be having convulsions, with his limbs moving independently. Then he stood up. No. It wasn't him who got up.
Unpredictable in their absurdity. It was an evening at the end of March when he was reading a book on the sofa and his hand began to tremble. In reality she immediately noticed that it wasn't a tremor, but a movement. An involuntary movement. Or, rather, it wasn't his will that commanded the hand. The limb rose up, showing the palm, closing and Phone Number Data opening suddenly. Then he fell back onto the couch, clutching the fabric as if he wanted to tear it. Remo saw his nerves tense, then the fist came out and hit him in the eye. I scream. He ran into the kitchen, grabbed some ice, wrapped it in a towel and placed it over his eye. He returned to the room and sat down with his hand pressed to his face. I'll get black, he said to himself. Who cares. The next morning, in the bathroom, he observed his image in the mirror, the three-day beard, the deepening dark circles, the increasing white hair and the dark spot on the eye.
She washed and went back to the room to get dressed. He decided not to go out until his eye healed. He wouldn't have made a good impression looking like that. He drank coffee for breakfast and went to the living room. The day passed without apparent incident, except for some objects moving or noises in other rooms. He read a book lying in bed and around 11pm he went to sleep. The cell phone alarm rang. He remembered turning it off after returning from the hospital. He checked the time. It was 3 o'clock. "Shit." He turned off the phone. He felt the hand move on its own again. She cursed under her breath. The movements also extended to the other and then to her legs. On the bed he seemed to be having convulsions, with his limbs moving independently. Then he stood up. No. It wasn't him who got up.