That Tuesday he had the feeling that his mind was frozen, impotent. He often had that feeling. He would just stand like that. He stared into space or at the ceiling while something screwed him. He watched TV, nibbling peanuts and something screwed him. And he could not come.

Then he studied the wall a bit. Nothing. That something still screwed him. Without result.

Gentle autism, he called this state of himself, and kept nibbling peanuts. When his lips start to pucker from the salt, he gets up, dresses and heads to the shop via Donji Konal to buy some ice-cream. He spends some time chatting with the always kind Joso, the shop-keeper, and then heads back.