The main attraction on my way to work used to be this mansion. I had noticed it because of this kid... Maybe a brat from the neighborhood who had some arguments with the people living in. Every morning, he grabbed a stone and cast it on the window, which stubbornly refused to break. Then he ran to school for fear that he might get caught...

When I asked the old man who lives there why he didn't complain to the parents he told me that: "The kid will finally get caught anyway...".

Thinking about it, I'm not sure what the kid's motive was: what I remember is the faith and hope in his eyes when the stone was aiming for the window, and his final deception when it bounced back stupidly.

I remember precisely this very Sunday morning, when the man had invited me for a brunch. I was a bit surprised: to tell you the truth, I didn't know him much... But he insisted on my waiting with him, sat by the window until the kid shows up.

Like every morning, the little misfit came roaming around, fingering the rocks in front of the house, weighing them all in order to find this special stone which would grant him success, until he finally picked one. At this moment I perceived something I could not define here, a feeling close to envy in my host's glance while his enemy was preparing for the throw. But just as he was raising his arm, a man, supposedly his father, came up and took him away silently while the kid was crying and protesting and shouting in our direction...

"You see, told me the old man with a bit of disappointment in his tone, I knew he was bound to get caught".

I never heard of the kid since then.