en

I'm walking past XXXXX street on the XXXXX for one hour, twenty-seven minutes and twenty seconds, no twenty-one, twenty-two now... My ankles are hurting me hard. This morning, I had a quick and light breakfast. All the yellow cars of the city seem to be concentrated in this street. They might be in hurry and they're honking perpetually. Those idiots have given me a headache. My watch is ringing, I don't know why. In fact, I knew, but I don't remember. I continue to walk past the buildings. Pigeons are afraid and fly away. I think a few seconds on how it would be if I could fly in the air. The pigeon hits a car and my ideas fly away.