The Fragmentary Thoughts of Midnight

Tranquility; the fathomless water; surprised by the sound of its own breath, awakens from the sleep and listens to the sound of silence in silence; the dead of night. Ticktack, a fretting clock struggles to cling on the wall creeps and wiggles restlessly; the heavy air in the room is heavier then lead, dominates space; the wall falls to the ground by the sound of heartbeats; something, that is unknown, flies away flapping the huge and dark wings; the dead of night. The candle burns; the light goes out; in the echo of the tinkling bell, the man who bears the cross on his back sobs; on the other side of the statue of Virgin Mary, the man who is on the cross cries softly; the dead of night.