February
Wednesday 26 September 2012 photo 1/1
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He had wandered between these walls for years. Some days he just walked, nodding to the psychiatrists who by now let him go by himself, always watched by someone at a distance. Some days he sat on his bed, the straitjacket forced on him, making him chew the straps and scream in agony while his mouth drenched the white fabric in blood. And sometimes, they found him leaning against the wall, drool hanging down his chin, whispering words no one could interpret. His eyes staring into the cold, stone walls. But he had his days, when he smiled and showed the torn teeth, and the weary eyes peeking out, telling that they could pop out any moment if he did something exhausting. But yet again, those days had to come to and end to.
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