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"The Wanderer" leaves the town of "Kate's greenstreets", a place used to educate children. He walks a lot, realy a lot, he nerver have ever felt theis tired before, but he has to keep walking, until the "Volcano". So, he stops a while to smoke. 

43 - Tired out of begins.

Narrator: The ability of making a good cigarrete to smoke, riquires patience and finesse. Then he remembered of the first day. Before the begginng... 

"The Wanderer" leaves the city of "Kate's Greenstreets", a place used to educate children. He walks a lot, a lot until he needs to rest so much that he just doesn't do anything. For as long as necessary he would stay still, recovering his strength. Internal and external. Of the soul and the body.

He has never felt tired before, but he has to keep walking, until the "Volcano". Then he stops for a moment to smoke. And he thinks about how he would like to make snow again. But he fears the consequences.

A week ago he had stolen, lied, cheated. Everything to be able to make snow again. He was constantly afraid that making snow would prevent him from achieving his goal.

Some time ago, "The Wanderer" had accepted the burden of going to the center of BACU, on the "Volcano" and destroying something he was carrying, but now he had doubts about what it was.

As he smoked, "The Wanderer" realized that this was actually day one. And that the last few days had really been the last. From now on your journey begins. And the next 43 chapters are frequent digressions. Constants. Inconveniences. Complicated. Full of habits. Colored with errors. And told inaccurately. Lies. Manipulations. And sometimes, completely exaggerated.

...

"One"

1 - Beggin.

Narrator: Wandered. Without direction. He walked until his footsteps merged with the path. He walked until his legs were one body with the ground. The deserted and dark street had always been inviting to souls who wander aimlessly.

Narrator: And at that moment, "the wanderer" once again walked aimlessly. With nowhere to go, but with the absolute certainty that the path was his true destination.

Narrator: Walking without leaving the place is a habit that can be addictive and this vice was inadmissible for "the wanderer", he was always going. "Every time I put a goal in my head and went on a walk, even if that goal didn't last long". Said to himself "The wanderer".

Narrator: Sometimes he walked in a straight line, until he couldn't fill the spot where he started. Other times, he walked in circles until, he lost count of how many laps he had covered. He wandered with determination and focus, but without considering his goal, he often changed the task. After all, he had nowhere to go, and nowhere to go back.

Narrator: "The wanderer" was looking for his fate along the way. Savoring the landscapes and recognizing the faces of passersby. He walked out because laziness to: stay still. Also for curiosity. That childish will that all of us animals have: "know what's on the other side".

Narrator: He walked out of obligation or curse, call it what you want. Perhaps the interpretation is more tied to the observer's point of view than the condition itself. The fact is: It is impossible for him, not to walk. He must be on move. Literally impossible. No matter how tired. Until just he fell in sleep. Then, He wake up and go for a walk.

Narrator: The wanderer kept walking. Most of the time, he preferred to walk at dawn, when the streets were quiet and the heat gave way to a mild climate. He didn't mind walking in the rain, he even liked it, he only hates the "Son of rain. But this is for latter. He felt the raindrops purifying his soul. Some believe that the drops of heaven purified sinful souls.

Narrator: "The wanderer" created these theories in his head for hours as he walked. It was one of the favorite pastimes to distract the mind. In order to let the mind wander peacefully through ideas. To save the adrenaline-fuelled sense of alertness of the climaxes of events completely for the moment needed.

Narrator: It would take several hours to distract the mind, because that walk had a pending goal, which somehow, became the most important activity to be performed. And yet also be the one he most wanted to put off.

Narrator: He chose the street that brought back memories of times when worries are not about topics that should really concern. Moments of innocent interpretations. And distant from closer and latent realities.

Narrator: He remembered when he used to smoke in certain trees on that narrow, dark street at that hour of the morning. Addicts have habits and routines of use, a preference for the way they consume their favorite drug. Most of the time the choice is pending your routines.

Narrator: Certain occasions that at one time were common. Over time they become fond memories.