For two weeks I walked past that store, you could see through the windows, the old man just sat in the store looking at the
Fungus Key Pro
destruction, not fixing this and that anymore, there laid a little bit of everything all over the place, as continued staring, and musing. He kept the door locked so no business could come in. Then a few more weeks went by, it was over a month now since the vicious attack on him and his store occurred, and the old man took no pains in fixing anything still, he just seemingly toyed with this and that in the store as if he wanted to see what he was seeing, and wanted to lock it into his mind, thus, making whatever would happen in the future devoted, to his cause.
I even got a funny feeling, watching the old man through the window day after day, a feeling that he was creating a plan, unfolding it, reworking it, as if he was in war, a POW, unfolding it until he got the correct rightful sequence, nothing imperfect, an idea that would transform into arrangements. I kind of wanted to disappear.