There was a grocery store on my way to school.
I used to talk to the shopkeeper there sometimes.
Suddenly his shop was closed.
(Perhaps his mother died.) There was a slum near our house.
The boys and girls there used to play with special balloons.
After I told at home, everyone said that if you put it in your mouth, it will hurt your mouth.
One day I told that grocery friend.
He gave me a special balloon for a penny.
I was very happy.
….. whatever.
After a long time I saw him walking around in dirty clothes.
And what is he saying all the time.
I wanted to talk to him.
He didn't know me.
I saw another such healthy person go crazy.
No crazy, just sitting on the road.
I wondered how they did it.
The latter was in very good health at first.
In the middle of three years, I saw him wither into wood.
He used to sleep on the street.
If someone gave something out of pity, he would have food.
….. I have cut many scars in my mind.
Two or three days after I last saw him, I heard he died on the road.
I don't know why they go crazy.
I used to work part time in a shop.
From computer composing to video editing, service sales were all in that shop.
Sikandar often sat next to that shop.
I never understood him.
897.061 SRY