You become brittle like an old car. Some parts fall on the road, the joints rattle and everyone drives past you. You get rusty in the hems, your motor runs too hot and tends to stop in the street, coughing.

In my good moments I do not know anything about these changes. I say hello to the people I know and wave to the children. I even feel that everything is OK. In a way, life is better than ever. When something disappears from around me or from myself, it becomes unnecessary. There is such a plenty of phenomena and things that I do not need!

Can leaving the world be so painless? And how skillful the tinsmiths are in fitting new mudguards or joints! And no-one is hoping - not to mention demanding - anything from me!

 

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