He watched his funeral in spite of those who had died accidentally. However, the death was a conscious choice. That's what he told me with eyes dim with tears, which made him believe that this time immediately. The great novelists always have to give them the benefit of lying. To sum up the story told in a day of boredom in front of the screen, decided to star in one of his characters. No one either, but his favorite, who had no opponent, and he considered the novel a beauty of postmodern realism.
That is, did not have a physical character as an antagonist, the conflict was guaranteed by the hard efforts of the main character in his ideal of freedom, equality and fraternity, as it were somehow deemed unnecessary since innovate in a time-honored formula. Thus was introduced, a champion of the dispossessed, defender of oppressed workers, peasants dispossessed, those suffering hunger and lacking in justice, all exposed to the exuberance of his inventiveness and brilliance of its expression in narrative prose and poetry, especially poetry. Because then he learned that in addition to his talent for creative writing with brilliance expressed in neat lines, which aroused a mixture of adoration and envy of others pseudo poets and poets who gathered around him, sighing each other by the grace of his comment, one word at least, even if it just the gift of an insult. Everything was better to endure the bitterness of his indifference because the planets revolved around it.