Actually, this should be the input 100 and something, but as it erased some of its participation in competitions, this is officially my one hundredth post.
Today
before they played the twelve, I tore my house and I visited the old man. I found the door open, the TV on and a note on the table. He said: "I read your blog entry. When I knew someone would remember me, I moved and I realized how stupid I've been all these years. Now, I'm going to spend Christmas with my family."
sighed and looked at the sky, or rather, the roof of the house where he had lived until then the old man, and quietly whispered a "Merry Christmas." Then, I went, ready to open the gifts I had brought up the old man and this, my entry number 100.
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