
... turning the key, mumbling something incomprehensible, he stood there turning his head to the right, to the left and for a short moment seemed to hesitate. Unsure of what he should do, a familiar feeling grows within his chest. He had been here before. More than once. There is nor there will be no coming back this time. Insufficiancy leaves a bitter taste. It' s of no use, every further attempt would be failing and nothing but a well intentioned but nostalgic and therefore avoidable waste of time. There it was, undoubtely, the end of something. Dried dust [...]