Is Nutramax A Good Dog Food

Eight-thirty in the morning.
station Bologna.
track seven.
in five minutes the train to Ancona.
By now I became the commuter rescue.
Mom called ...
I have to get off.
raining outside. A rain
fake.
According to Vera. A
Austrian young friend.
wet, but I do not see it.
The track is full of people waiting.
are all sad.
As the passions of our times.
properties in their daily routine.
As each day waiting for the train to work, school.
It makes no difference.
The faces do not express anything. If you do not
resignation.
They are all well dressed.
Without being sought. Sober
to disappear in the gray of the station.
They are ordered in a row.
No whistles, smiles, talks.
The lips are tight.
Mute.
eyes off.
Absent.
someone bounces the eye in the paper.
To narrow enclosures. In this
leaden atmosphere are talking monitors advertising.
drive.
fashion items.
They use bright colors. En
pendent with the tones of the areas recently renovated.
should stimulate. Provoking
pleasurable sensations.
entice.
to react.
Thanks also to the background music.
reasons usually exotic, carefree. All very
clashes with the atmosphere there.
Nobody does anymore.
The monitor has a chest near the stairs going.
The sound is shot at the most.
should swing into distortion. According
a constant rate.
looks like a desired effect.
annoying. All
are beyond reproach. How
not there. Not
it heard.
sank and meters and meters in their bunker.
Nobody bothers to look for the remote to turn it off.
Or the plug to disconnect the agony.
should be well angrily hurl his briefcase against the hard plastic screen.
Up to grind the surface.
To exit the gray matter.
transistors, wires, electrical boards. How
fireworks.
Nobody does this act of charity.
are all mired in the dark weight.
With the spirit of life left to sleep under the sheets.
is not yet time to wake up.