‘Twas a quiet day in (name), as it was still early in the day, with the breeze, trying to chill you to the bone and the wind holding you back from reaching your destination. The morning was dark, but that was normal around this time of the year. The days were getting shorter and the sun wasn’t as powerful as it used to be in the summer, an ancient cycle that had been repeated since the beginning of the earth. Nonetheless, the streets were busy, even very early, and people went to their jobs and work. Winter or not, life continued as always, for silly Mother Nature could not hope to stop the routine of life – get up, go to work, go sleep. However, some men don’t follow this cycle, and this makes them different. How much different, actually? Those people are usually either lazy bums or strange people -- outcasts of society. However, for one to understand those 'outcasts', one must be them, feel what they feel and know what they know. This, is the story of two of these people.
Outside, (name) grabbed a newspaper from the rack that stood in front of the door of the shop, and as he read the title, he seemed shocked.
He stared at the newspaper, in disbelief. Slowly, he repeated the title of the first page in silence, the only parts of his body that were moving were his shaking hands and his lips, which kept forming the words, the words that stood on the paper. Never had words such a deep effect on him. Now, his feet also started to shake and his head became as red as a tomato. ‘’I..’’ he whispered to himself, stunned by what he just had read, for he simply could not believe it. Bypassers looked at him, worried if they should get a doctor, as his current condition didn’t seem very healthy to them. Blagh, what did they know of him, peons, he thought as he noticed the people looking at him... Nonetheless, he suddenly straightened his face and looked around, smiling at the people surrounding him, and as they noticed he seemed to be fine, they moved on, busy with their lives. (name) grabbed the newspaper from the rack and walked away with an emotionless face, yet, his eyes were betraying his rage. He was holding it firmly in his hands, as if he was strangling it. Oh yes, he wanted to, he simply wanted to tear the paper apart and burn the pieces that were left of it, for that was the only fitting purpose it served to him. Walking through the streets, he tried to relax again and loosened his hold on it before he stopped in front of one of the many houses that all looked the same. (name) simply walked forward and grabbed from his pants his keys, opening the house. All that could be seen was darkness inside, and it was illuminated by the light it was exposed to, even though the day was dark and gloomy. He looked around in paranoia and walked in, quickly closing the door, disappearing into the darkness that had been contained by the walls of the house.