He stood up and aimlessly started walking... He walked and walked, without a destiny, without a place to go back to.
The long-repressed feelings of isolation and devastation and the new emotions of despair became one and the world felt cold... very cold.
Conveniently he had walked up to the middle of the bridge... he was standing by the railings as the cold wind played with his hair.
He stood there in a daze, some people who were doing their daily workout sessions, just glanced at him and passed by... it was like they didn't want to stay longer there and be part of what was to come?
Was it their defence mechanism?
But the man himself didn't even notice anyone nor the look of pity they gave him.
Even as a child, he wasn't good with the cold weather, though he doesn't have his memories 'anymore', he felt like he never actually felt cold as a child, it was like there was always someone who made sure that he wasn't cold?
He had always thought that it must be his mother...
