I found a very peculiar hobo in the streets of NYC, he had a pair of plucked wings, was wearing diapers and was holding in his hands a bow and a piece of paper that had written on it "Love is over, unemployed" and before such sad situation, I approached the guy and dropped some change I had in my pockets in the hat he had in front of him, and as I did so, he looked at me, surprised by the act of charity I had just made, and told me:
"Love soon will come to your life"
"Thank you very much for your wishes, sir" I said "but my heart has been broken so many times that I no longer believe in that what you call love."
And when I spoke those horrible words, I saw the hobo die in front of me, victim of an heart attack.
The end.
