He was suffering more than any human being in this world. Lonely! His suffering was very deep.
Cruel ! No one asked himself, saying : "What's he done to be punished in that way in his whole life?" No one could see his face well behind the tears of his eyes. Finally, he went to the other world. Only his soul. Lonely! Silently among the pain. And they found after one day from his death the book of his life. His gallery. All the pictures that you can say about them : "They're very curious !". The way that he lived by was very curious. In fact, there was no family of him in all those pictures. There was one thing we consider as a family in his situation. His stuff. No less, no more. Especially, his brown coat that he loved it.
That he wore each sunday. For every occasion.
And it is now on the coutch without any signal of life. No moving. Such as an ancient piece. No life. But when they take a look at it. Then, they
realized the big difference between their precious life and his own's. The difference is huge. And the solitude is harsh. There's no comparison. And when he died. When they left him, and forget this weak creature forever. Those are his family that he has lived without all this time. And they're preparing to leave.
