Piled up beside a wall like firewood beside the fireplace, folded like trousers inside a wardrobe, this entity looks at the nothing ahead with weary grey eyes.
Grey eyes, while a grey shadow extends, cannibalizing thoughts that were strong and well contoured until just a moment before.
This grey shadow has a decent strength, and personality too: similar to a rubber, it absorbs and erases thoughts, cleaning the brain, making it as dry as the scorched earth of a battlefield.
So the entity now knows that it is time to sleep, until the sun will rekindle these grey eyes, until the sun will tear again everything out of the grey.