The Old Essences
The building have like ninety years old, there is almost no colours alives. The walls have a green sad and dirty aspect. There is a ww2 germany tank (PANTHER D) in the living room that my father built. The light is dim. One of the rooms is full of trash and old staffs.
The balcony is surrounded of big windows and when you look through them, you see a totally different world, you look how the streets and building changes and grows making them so popular and arrogant as same as the most people living in there, I'm afraid to say.
But inside, still the same essence as eighty-two years ago, the same smell of bread and mate in the kitchen, the sunlight in the morning cames through the american blinds leaving those nice rectangular shapes in most of the house, the same noises of the wind entering throught the slit windows at nightfall.
He never left.
