The story of a dog

It was one of those mornings that the sun never makes an appearance in the sky dome. I was awake struggling to finish off a yesterday’s cigarette left in the ashtray, trying to choke down its stale taste with a coffee that was getting cold. I was sitting on a wide chair with my feet up near the hearth succeeding to maintain the heat I carried from bed and I was thinking. No, I wasn’t thinking I was absentminded and staring at the flames. Around me people were walking by, doing their daily morning chores, making me feel even more depressed for not doing anything at all. I was trying to excuse my idleness making myself believe that I am an artist and my job is to take photographs but little “me” on my right shoulder would argue “and why aren’t you outside trying to take pictures?” making my head hung more towards my chest looking at my belly, feeling even more useless. Read more →