the life of asphalt Pacific April vecher.Pod worn soles walks sad and silent asphalt. Soles excitedly told him about their daily travel. Shaking, dust particles, strings, rods, hands, socks, shoes, pieces of trousers, the smoothness of tights, dog noses, paws and so forth. -All this vision, shimmering feet. As for sounds, a mixture of daytime noise, consisting of thousands of whistles, screams, rustle, rustle, giggles, words, weeping, gnashing, rustling, and so on., pulled into one long-drawn-hooting string somewhere exactly in the middle of the head accident asphalt.
Swallowing packs valerian lanterns of yellow spots, carefully spread out on the sidewalk, he still could not sleep for a long time, and trembling nervously rustling of tires. WinCE it so often microscopic, that it seems to us that he is calm and motionless. In fact, the asphalt is suffering terribly. He was already annoyed that year at his ignorance.
His main trouble is that he is very much to know, but nothing, absolutely nothing can understand. He does not understand what people talk about where and how they go and go, why they drop and run. Scraps of his visions so do not mix with each other that if they put out the mosaic, then get the picture strange predsonnogo delirium.
Asphalt tormented by his silence and could not support any one of the world's conversations. And many, many years he was the asphalt silently and alone wondering walking riddle of life.
