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Schoenberg was a very strange man.
He lived alone, but he loved imaging through his eyes and his mind what was outside his cage of bricks.
think everyone was born with a reasonable dose of normality, but taking both a recluse and a *** choice made him really weird. And rather dour too.
Yes, when solitude is not real, nor a way to live but is a window, it turns dangerous and embitters you.
Furthermore, his passions were those who make someone lonelier
The day began as he woke up at 7.30 am. Schoenberg freshened up and got dressed together with Mrs Pierce, if I can say "together".
The telescope brought him closer to life without touching it.
Meanwhile, Mr Pierce prepared breakfast. So did Schoenberg.
At 9.00, the postman delivered flowers to Mrs Pierce. He never discovered who the sender was, especially as the woman threw them away immediately...
The wonderful caution of the inconsiderate people.
Usually, at that time, Widow Whitman went out for a walk with her annoying dog. It was as rowdy as ugly.
That animal noise was never worth his attention.
At that point, he preferred tuning in to his favourite sci-fi programme, with a five minutes delay, normally.
At 10.05, Schoenberg watched Mrs Pierce going out with an elegant dress. The face of the woman was confident and emotionless.
They were moments of pure curiosity, the brave ritual of an unfaithful wife. But after that, Schoenberg dealed with one of the hardest times of the day.
The absence of neighbours to spy on made him nervous. So he cleaned his flat obsessively, inventing dust even where there wasn't
He tidied away things that already had their proper place. It was the way to employ time that Schoenberg enjoyed less
but he definitely wasn't a man who cared of living well.
Fortunately, at 10.30, Mr Badger woke up and started reading job offers even without splashing his face.
However, depressed people never find job, so Schoenberg got two hours to read his science magazines.
Actually, he thought he could legitimate all those fantastic stories he used to devour.
At 1.30 pm, Mr and Mrs Pierce had lunch as nothing happened. The lady was always back home in time.
They really were a potential tragedy, and Schoenberg's favourites.
That's why he always had lunch with them.
At 2.25, after his rest, Mr Badger went out searching for a job
Instead, Schoenberg started solving math puzzles in French. He mantained translation and calculation were similar procedures, so the brain would have gained benefit.
Therefore, the degree of difficulty raised as in Olympic Diving
In the afternoon, Widow Whitman sewed. Schoenberg automatically responded editing his huge notebook
There were notes about stars, notes about people, notes about nothing...
At 6.30 Mr Badger came back empty-handed. He slapped himself with the same empty hands before making a phone call to his faraway children.
Their candour depressed him beyond measure. Schoenberg, the man whose reading was the most regular in the world, read forty-three pages of one of his books.
At 7.15 Mr and Mrs Pierce started shouting. The husband wasn't ingenuous. He was just insensitive, but he thought he had rights.
Schoenberg preferred tuning in to Professor Lannovich physics classes. It was more reassuring and simple.
At 8.20, Widow Whitman literally flew over the stoves. Schoenberg tried to defeat her, but solitude doesn't improve somebody's own cooking skills.
At 9.30 Mrs Pierce was already sitting on the sofa
Her cries were so much disproportionate compared to soap opera's dramatic nature that only an empty man like Mr Pierce could ignore her.
Meanwhile, Schoenberg watched the stars. He took notes as if the events of the earth and the sky were bond.
At 10.40 Mr Badger came back home standing on a foot.
He miraculously managed finding the lock and Schoenberg could go to sleep calmly.
The 20th of July 1969, Schoenberg woke up with his everyday prerogatives: spending his day through his neighbours
But something strange was arising. The telescope couldn't locate Mr and Mrs Pierce.
Schoenberg searched for them nervously without finding them. What could had happened?
The powerful lens couldn't spot any of the neighbours. No one responded to the roll call.
Schoenberg was already sick. Was the telescope broken? Impossible! Were the aliens of his books finally arrived? Plausible!
So he began contemplating the most incredible theories. He couldn't explicate such a huge variation .
And yet, Schoenberg wasn't considering the easiest hypothesis, since he lived out of the world, just spying on it.
After all, it was a banal thing for a methodical man like him. What could make all the people disappear at the same time but a communal event?
Schoenberg didn't want to let himself go. He was part of a rhythm, he was a rhythm.
Ok, it was odd, but since then it became meaningless. No one appeared to lend a hand.
He tried to drive his lens beyond the block, but life was happily passing by on sofas and beds close to televisions and radios.
Schoenberg didn't even think about turning his sets on.
Who knows what would have happened, if he had done it? However, this is a thought for those who love going beyond facts.
Events tell us Schoenberg couldn't live: coffee tasted like dirty water
his French biscuits looked like the Battle of Saigon
the monsters of his books were deflated and didn't scare anymore. Nothing made sense.
Schoenberg couldn't get wise about it. But irony strikes everything and everyone, even a man like him.
He never knew the Moon was responsible for this tragic planetary escape...
Exactly, the theatre of his beloved stories, the mildest certainty of the sky
That 20th of July Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin subjected all humanity and destroyed Schoenberg's schedule
It was a giant leap for human kind and also a total degeneration of a man.
In the evening, sweaty and on the edge of his sanity, he devoured a book about interstellar tunnels
The only possible solution was creating one and shut himself in it. Through precise calculations he would have found the exact point where the universe was thinner and penetrable.
It was enough to use necessary strenght and the portal would have appeared
Schoenberg knew the author of the book got blown into thousand pieces trying to test his theory.
Probably he didn't care, but the thought of ending up on a wall as a meat costellation is quite funny for us watching.
Schoenberg cleared the largest wall and began applying the results of the formulas written on his new bible
He wasn't afraid of getting wrong. Not even the real Bible was written by God, after all.
Everything was ready. He finally located the point where to place some explosive charges he had been hidding for any reason in his changing room...
Or maybe for an occasion like this.
The armed charges produced a homemade and not so alarming rumble.
The strange man was even lucky.
Irony showed its incredible strenght once again
and Schoenberg decided to do what a man does when he feels overwhelmed:
he leaves and explores...
...just like an austronaut.
Subtitled By Margherita Ferro.