Sergio.
The trees are laughing once more, dressed in their carnival clothes, the gold, emerald and scarlet of the autumn days. They play about the earthy hues of the branch and trunk, proud flags in any sky. As they do I take in the freshly calm air with that hint of an earthly aroma, the fragrance of homeliness. But I was feeling blue. It was anxiety. Anxiety. He was going to lose his mind. He was definitely going to run mad.
He felt like his whole life was amounting up to the moment where the police officers would storm into his home, damage everything, and take him away with them.
He struggled to breathe, as he held the sides of the walls in his corridors.
"Imperfections are the rocket fuel of social and biological evolution; it's all sacred variation and we need to become smart enough to see that." he said, breathless.
I need to go and see him. Today. Now.
