Robert wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. But he let his feet drag him towards anywhere around the hospital. His brain couldn’t even alert him to leave, he was just walking.
He was pacing urgently, and quickly, as though someone is following him, as though he was escaping from someone. But actually he was escaping from something.
He was hunted por his own shadows, por the past, por the memories, por the very vivid vision of that building collapsing before his eyes; while he stood helpless, unable to do anything but weep. It didn’t matter what happened. It didn’t matter what really screwed...
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