At the middle of a very dark night, a drunkard walked out from the cavern near the deserted beach, while the ocean waves were splashing loudly, a sign of an incoming storm. He had just finished his last bottle of the cheap rum, and threw the empty bottle into the sea. The empty bottle illustrated exactly his empty heart, since he was jobless, homeless, hopeless; yes, every „less‟ you can imagine. “This will be my last hour,” he spoke to himself, walking through the boisterous wind further along the darkness of the seashore, toward a faraway lighthouse. “This is a perfect time to die; this will be my last hour, my last!” He knew he was facing death, a fate determined by his broken heart. He had decided to commit suicide, to jump into the outrageous ocean, in order to instantly wipe out all his unbearable sorrows…

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