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En este bendito (¿o será maldito?) día, viernes 13, la necesidad de aportar la siguiente historia resulta imperiosa. La susodicha historia fue creada por un servidor mientras realizaba un viaje - el cual nunca ocurrió - a una remota zona del estado de Arkansas, EUA.

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While I was expecting Fred to arrive with some good news, my heart started to beat quite hard. The reason? It's time I don't have a good idea about it. But I was expecting Fred, with a hard-beating nervous heart. Oh yeah! I was nervous. That was the reason... Never mind. Of course, he came too late, not sufficiently to make me lose the nerve.

"Hi, Frank!", he said. To which thing I was looking? I remember a light in the road and a car parked in the demarcation. Fred was concerned about something. Let's see what's the problem with dear Fred. "I saw a car in the way, while I was coming." I turned to him and nodded. "I was just watching it. And what's the uncommon situation in that?"

Fred was that kind of person that always has something to worry about. It was kind of difficult to live with him; I being an optimistic guy, he worrying me about his particular worries.

"It's a couple, Frank! And they're doing... Well, you know, they're doing the stuff the couples do."

"Humans. So predictable. Always with stupid bonds. They're holding so hard to many material things, the most material of all is other people. Then, by the way, love is such a stupid thing, 'cause you're holding to a person that some time in some way will disappear in your life. You, or the other person, that doesn't matter after all, will leave. You'll die or you'll leave, get bored and leave. Then, why do humans have that stupid necessity to hold to temporal things? Love: such a matter, such a problem."

When I looked back, the car was gone. Maybe the couple have finished whatever they were doing. Bored and tired, Fred said good-bye, and closed the conversation like this: "I just don't know. It doesn't matter. That kind of things are beyond my scope; why bother with holding too hard to things? I'm just a ghost. I don't know about attachments, clinging hard to things..."

I stared a long time to his ghostly figure entering the forest. My thoughts were anxious, my internal laugh was sarcastic: "Maybe life's the most material thing, my dear Fred..."