On the narrowest stria from strident to silence he kept plugging away. It was only the peace to follow him consistently with the scattering rythm of quiescence. Jonas clenched his eyes and pulled his sleeves down. He slowly then inspected his arms : dim blood firing down. The immobility of the dead clouds in the ancient humming sky made him scream.
O, straight void.
He chanted : ''As Beckett says, it remains.  No point in this, alas yes.''
People gathered around him.
Blood stop flowing on.
People started whispering.
''He has had a glimpse of the world.''
''Has seen Zahar. No return from there, that is.''
Therefore the combined mixture of whisperings became to aggregate around him.
The one-time experience which abled him to feel the formula. The very sentece of everything. The law lef him in solitude. Whilst one has gone has no return.
He felt like falling apart. His cells resisted to excist but the crowd narrowly surrounding him wouldn't let him collapse. They were like stars kept on staring.
The moon fell down. The roof were left ever so dark.
Shouting silence.
Alas yes.