About a weird story in my head Melanoma, the worst skin cancer, one month left. Holding his death penalty, Mr Y was extremely calm, even his doctor looked more worried while staring at his pale face. “Well, that’s new", thought Mr Y, “and perhaps the most dramatic scene in my whole life.” He didn’t remember how he got out of the hospital, merely wandering on the street without destination. People passed by rapidly with same cold faces, no one pays even a tiny attention to a poor, desperate man. “Look at this world, I’m nobody here, the planet runs every day without me.” “Maybe death is not the end, maybe it’s not a so bad thing, maybe it’s a relief for someone like me, a mediocre little man.” He grinned, or he thought he did, for a kid nearby seemed scared looking at him. “No wait, but I have sth unfinished, I have dreams to realize. I’m always too busy with my work to learn playing the cello, I’m always short of time and money to see a bigger world, and I’m always too shy to ask my neighbor girl out for a cup of coffee.” The sunlight was so glaring, hurting his eyes. “Oh Lord, it’s not right, it’s not fair, why me, why now, I’ve been such a good person since I was a kid.” It’d be a lie that he was not afraid of death, actually he was scared to death now. “Who would mourn for me, my parents? Sure they would, since they kept regarding my bad feeling as illusion. My friends? Well, they’ll be over it before long.” He collapsed by the wall all in sudden, with his face in his hands. “Look at this damn world.” Legs moved back and forth in front of him, but he couldn’t see anything now.