Geniul si nebunia  despartite de granita sarutului imun,  carismaticul zambet uitat pe obrazul stins al vietii, improscarea  dorintei de a aduna numere albe uitate de timp, frante..

 There was only one passenger. Who would have thought?

 Palid. Ploua.  Picaturi alunecand pe fruntea insignei cersite de timpuri ireale. Cuget… deci in sinea mea existam?

 He always liked Ave Maria. It had to be sung.