Alopecia Areata Barbae

Day surreal

Today I was in School (shared with Law) from 13:30 to 19:30.

I studied from 15:30 to 17:00.
Between classes and the next.

I was on the table Gulliver, Language and Translation and a giant sheet that says " NOTES TO ENGLISH LITERATURE" .

is approaching a type:

Type: ( puts the bag on the table ) Uff .. At what point are you with criminal law? (Looks at me ).
Me: ( I look around to make sure that angry with me. There is none. O speaks for itself or have it all right with me ). I really do letters.
Type: ( looks at me dazed ) Really?
Me: ( look at him as if to say where is the camera is this a joke? ) We swear!
Type: ( looks around) But you're studying alone?
Me: ( I restrain myself from laughing in his face, the table has 3 other places, visibly EMPTY) I'd say .. (Stating the obvious look with empty seats ) my friends reach me later.
Type: ( color becomes RossoHoFattoUnaFiguraDiMerda ) Ah ok. Hello.
Me: ( I have no idea what expression I XD) Hello.

5 minutes later:

Tipa: ( rests her bag and looks at me insistently ).
I : ( I feel observed and decide that no, it is a feeling and I raise my head. I look at it I also ).
Tipa: ( supports my view).
Me: ( confused try to stop the embarrassing situation ) You need something?
Tipa: ( ecstatic smiles) Yes, thanks! You're repeating true? I did not call because I did not want to interrupt you! The exam is at 16 right? Ugh just after lunch!
Me: ( but what time do you eat? - between laughing and crying ) no see. You misunderstood ( indicates books) do letters.
Tipa: ( 20 seconds staring at me intently. Then cries ) Scusaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Mica I had capitooooo. You could not tell me first?
Me: oO ( shocked expression).
Tipa : Wish Good luck then.
Me: oO Good luck, of course.
Tipa: ( ecstatic smile ) cracks. Ciaaao.
Me: Hello .

20 minutes later:

Type: ( takes away the jacket engages the shoulder and sits and XD) I'm sorry I do not want to interrupt. E 'at 16 or 17 to the test?
Me: ( resigned to the fact, at least, seems able-bodied ) I do not know. Letters are. I'm sorry.
Type: Letters?
Me: ( look at him questioningly ) is.
Type: Ah.
Me: Hm ... ( articulate speech ... what a beautiful ).
Type: ok.
Me: ok.
Type: ( SonoAppenaScesoDalleNuvoleNonSonoCosìPerchèMiUccidoDiCanneGiuro makes a face) I'm sorry. I'm going to ask around. Hello.
Me: Hello .
Type: Hello.
Type: waves his hand.
Type: is returning in the distance.


Then I wrote to my fellow students exhausted, I begged them to get right that can not stand another who gave me the same damn question! These lawyers

Cecati! But I say, do not you see?

fact that I wrote the other next to me interrupted saying:

"NO! NOT 'TO 5. The HAVE MOVED TO "30" (NOTE) February, WHY 'GULLIVER ALSO TAKES TO COMPARE THE LEGAL SYSTEM AND THE RELATIONSHIP Ecnomo-inflationary OF 700' TO THE PRESENT! HOW NOT
SAPEVIIIIIIII?? VI VII
BUT WHERE?
BOCCIAREEEE you want to get?? "

Then I gave him their last respects because the victim would have shot to death in Roman law. XD


Day surreal.

Request Letter For Disconnection

82
David and Keith - the gravitational collapse

It had never happened that David found himself doing a course in car in silence. Not even during the fights with Megan - even with Samuel.
even when driving alone - which, however, the radio is always on. Always set the maximum volume.
Keith was a novelty in this sense.
And if the top had come natural to ask him some questions - try to involve him in an exchange offer, or simply a joke - did not take too long before realizing that it would be Just in exacerbating the silence to make the game even more intriguing.
When he stretched his arm to turn off the radio - when he stopped talking - Keith has stopped responding in turn. He stopped to stretch the shoulder muscles to stabilize each question on a more even tension - back perfectly straight. Look anchored outside the car windows - profile hidden in shadow. The hands buried between his knees.
David is confident that it would be enough just to breathe more deeply, to see him wince. It has also attempted to do just that, at certain moments.
Maybe clearing your throat all of a sudden - or call it by name. Move your hand directly from the gear lever to his thigh, with the naturalness of the gestures more subtle.
remained static, however, limiting the power to spy on the boy with one eye. Attached to the window with his elbow - a smile.
He always had a sort of personal ethics, in some things.
quell'erotismo burn too quickly would be a crime - such moments should be savored slowly. How
whiskey.
now - standing under crystal chandeliers in the great hall of the contemporary art gallery - just tilts his head in front of the giant painting that dominates the entrance and let his eyes slowly over the space using soft body portrait.
on curves of the muscles. Shoulders.
Beside her, Keith is setting the signature of the author - however.
For at least a quarter of an hour.
And he knew this would happen: that the boy's embarrassment was the real show - the real work of art. And the artist would have been him in the end.
He calibrates the gestures to rip his composure almost heroic traces of a subtle discomfort you do every minute more exciting. He who bites the smiles through his teeth.
moving without haste to the next painting.
Nothing is left to chance.
And if Keith is probably silently praying that the torture end as quickly as possible, David takes on the contrary, as long as necessary to allow the boy's embarrassment to undermine his self-control.
To be able to fray the nerves.
is the most exciting game that has ever happened to support.
"Oh, you see ..." she murmurs, lost, stopping in front of the next framework. "This is interesting. Very ... "
This is an acrylic painting, this time - the size of the canvas are just smaller of the other. But there
mammoth erection, in the foreground. Even
a body. Nothing.
Only a huge erect penis that stands up in a tangle of veins and sweat.
And he is forced to bite the inside of the lip hard to keep from laughing.
Not to shed the mask too quickly.
's Modern art has always seemed a gigantic shit - the deep meanings that Megan can not see inside, delirium from premenstrual syndrome.
But that far exceeds even the most surreal artists of his wife.
not remember ever having seen anything more stupid in the whole of his life.
Nothing could be more ridiculous.
Crossing his arms, takes to stroke his chin with his fingers.
"Do not see too that the divine masculine attribute is shown here in all its epic and voluptuous power?" Asks Keith, watching with one eye. "Longing metaphor of a physical significance that is spasmodic aderge the cosmic dissolution ..."
"There ..."
"not overly enunciated hyperbole, I agree," nods. "But for this very far from the stereotype of the simple expedient of cutting-edge, is not it?" Application yet.
And the boy swallows, not daring one movement. Without raising his head, either. Hidden by the hair, wet lips.
"I do not know much about art," is limited to responding. Plan.
"Hm ..." then he says - his eyes fixed on the painting. "Some say that modern art should essentially felt rather than understood."
Turns to Keith, then.
Looking at it from above, raises an eyebrow.
"Does this mean that you can not ..."
Pause.
" Hear?" Ends, holding his smile. "What you're not leaving penetrate inside you body painting? "
shakes his head, then. Bypassing the boy calmly, stop behind him.
"Well. But it is a shame ... "she whispered, bending to speak into the ear. "Because this is a great person, you know? An authentic vehicle orgasmic enlightenment ... "The
laugh is coming from.
Yet there is also a serious side too, in that his comedy of the absurd, because it is undeniable that the excitement is beating in my temples. That the blood pulsing against the artery walls at a speed crowds. Senseless. And that is not just about sex - sex burns more quickly, generally. Washes.
The discomfort of Keith, by contrast, is like fire never extinguished. Just to revive a breath - a deep breath. Hot air.
that wraps around the ear.
can hear it clearly on the skin, the tension of his body - can feel the excitement and the stiffness of each muscle.
The heat burning her cheeks. The breath.
"But, Keith ..." she whispers floor, move further towards the lips. "You can not deny that some effect is beginning to To let you, no? "Actually
are choosing the time, and how to keep the world from the palm of your hand.
Wait for right moment to launch it into space - the bow to shoot the arrow.
exciting.
must be created to mold itself around the shapes of her pleasure, that kid.
body, but not all. Even
mind.
Every single moment of life he has lived - every experience that has affected him. That made him the person he is now.
simply belongs to Keith.
and close the fingers can only have the firmness of authority claimed, when David suddenly closes the right side.
"Or maybe the picture has nothing to do ..." he continued, feeling it tremble. "Maybe it's not modern art to get this effect, Keith."
smiles, letting the silence is being extended.
allow the tension grows. It will grow again.
What becomes unsustainable.
"Maybe it's me ..." finally blows.
And it is a rubber band that breaks - the hiss of the time it snaps forward.
Even before the dizziness returns breath Keith has already slipped out of his grip - he crossed the hall. He has taken the corridor out, without looking back.
And he closed his eyes for a moment because the adrenaline seems to have pulverized the brain. Dried veins.
It is no longer even a game - the emotions are too strong for not alerting the sense of danger. In order not to want more. Even more.
knows that would be wiser to let it all go - is not so naive as to underestimate their reactions to such an extent.
Yet the next moment is already adjusting his tie, is already looking around. Calmly, is reaching the exit.
that he would not, however, the Treaty of usual fucked without consequences had understood from the start, the first time that has happened to that little boy under the eyes. It is only the challenge now. Or maybe just unconscious.
do not care.
The evening air is rough against my face, and the street lights seem to suggest crazy speeds. In the distance, Keith is a black shadow that slides along the pavement.
It leaves one wondering if he is not aware that the first flight will not take him anywhere - that will let them reach, sooner or later. It is not a fool.
The path that proves surprisingly decided linear, however, and the roadside overlook dozens of sleepers.
Without even hasten, David will take one. When
emerges again in the main street has already earned at least fifty yards on the stroke of a boy, and before it reaches Keith is even time to light a cigarette. To inhale a few puffs of smoke.
Again, the surprise in his eyes that reads repays the risk of any hazard: for a moment her eyes become huge - the pace slows down suddenly. Your lips unfold, in an expression incredulous. Soon after Keith
moves to the right, going around, and he simply takes to walk alongside. Delves into in the pockets - the amused glances. It clears his throat before speaking. He takes another drag on his cigarette.
"Do you have any precise destination?" Question finally, as if nothing had happened.
"My Home" is the answer, muttering.
"Hm."
A parted lips, David blows out the smoke.
"And it's far away, your house?" She asks again, quietly. "To adjust, you know," he adds.
Without help avoid this tendency lips into a smile. The
seems to hear, Samuel: Your only chance is that you can to be indecently disarming.
indecently beautiful, pretty, answers. What
exchange of words is almost as old as their friendship, and always a prelude to a victory. It is all too easy to bend the resistance of the professor, when the air is that electricity. Just a glance at times. The arch of an eyebrow.
Keith seems determined not to give it to him so easily won, however.
"Listen, David," beats, pausing. Press your hands over his eyes. "Forget it, so it was not working. I do not know what you said Vivian, but ... It no point in going forward, okay? Do not ... "A smile
. "No?"
"Nothing. I'm not like him, "murmured the boy, slowly. "And I'm not your type. Neither the type of shows .... Or from another. "
" I confess a secret? "Question, then, David, without badagli.
throws his cigarette on the sidewalk, then.
Without haste, crushed with the heel of the shoe.
"Neither do I have a kind of monster," he chuckles, glancing. "But honestly, admit it: the cyclopean States were worth it, would be to miss was a shame! "
tilting his head, looking with an accomplice.
"What was the name, the artist?"
"Hm."
Silence.
But David knows it already in hand - dall'allentarsi understands the tension on his shoulders. "It was called Silk," the answer in fact feel, with a whisper. "Silk something. I think. "
" Something Japanese? "
" Maybe ... "
" Yeah. "
another smile.
"And this reminds me that in fact you and I had planned a dinner ethnic, or am I wrong? "application and then, feigning distraction. "Too bad ..." A sigh. "We could direct us to something exotic, maybe. Steamed rice. Sushi. "
He shrugs.
"If only you were my type ..."
Embarrassed, Keith looks away.
"I'm sorry I ruined your evening," he murmurs. "Usually they are not always so hysterical, really."
"And I'm not so much always idiot, I swear, "he says, raising his hands. But even that does not wait for the boy to express clearly their own decisions - that's not the time to leave open the emergency exits. The
wraps his arm around his waist instead, and began to walk with him in the opposite direction. Guiding them toward the car. Talking to distract him. To hold his mind occupied.
Sometimes you need someone who accepts the responsibility to do it for us, certain choices.
And David would like to say that it is just strategy - that anything it is touching indeed.
yet can not help but admit to himself that it is incredibly gratifying to hear that, despite the hesitation, Keith's body is leaving to lead.
That could take him wherever he wants tonight.
And certainly, within a few hours, he will ask him to keep him.
The kids are like planets have their orbits - their nebulae.
But he is the sun, and this is enough.
Wine shadow. Soft voice.
And the laws of gravity, then, will certainly make the rest.






When you left home that morning, Keith had in mind a definite plan.
thought of as going to class every day and study a bit 'in the afternoon - maybe seeing a couple of hours with Vivian in the evening.
The idea that something might interfere in the scanning of its time not even touched - a life is not particularly marked by unexpected events, his.
fact.
And maybe that's also why I walk alongside David now seems so strange.
Maybe that's why the emotions of the evening are so hard to classify - to reduce in real terms, compared to others.
greater or lesser intensity, frequency of beats. Palpitations.
does not make sense.
Because the situation is so unreal to border on the absurd, and there is no way to rationalize something so unreasonable.
There is no way to explain. Understand.
Around the lawyer everything seems to invert its meaning: the smiles are scary - the menacing paintings.
And his hands have a force that should not be accommodated in touch so untouchable - his eyes are magnetic, even when he fixes them elsewhere. Even talking to the waiter or browse the menu pages or pouring a drink.
Even the room where they had dinner was different from all the Chinese restaurants where Keith has ever been. More elegant, more alien - the East a discreet presence which also invade the eyes, which occupied mind. The foods had domineering delicate flavors and aromas - new colors.
And the lawyer sat quietly with his jacket resting on the back of the chair.
His lips were folded into a smile as he ate, his eyes fixed upon him through the distance of the table.
He spoke at times. Voice low and intimate. Other times only
chewed, watching him, and it was like slowly suffocating.
Breath after breath.
Keith is not used to being at the center of such intense scrutiny.
But during the dinner did not do anything but feel his eyes on me with the impression that the rest of the room did not do anything but watch. Insistently.
It was David's fault, probably. The manner in which the light beat on her hair and magnetism that radiated.
Or maybe it was the effect it gave to see them side by side - a boy and a grown man, so different as to seem almost irreconcilable. Two worlds that were facing and had dinner together instead of fall.
Without any explanation to offer to those who had been studying. Without motivation that could overcome the density of the dark eyes of the lawyer, or the manner in which the stretch of her lips stretched the nerves of the body. The chills that slid down the back along the path of his voice.
Keith could not say what we have not even spoken. All
the speeches seemed to crumble when the silence came back to weigh each other - as if all reasoning is suddenly blotted out, leaving in place of the mind a blank slate on which to mark the path of the heart.
In those moments he could concentrate just on the slowness of their breath almost unreal - as if it were an effort of will necessary to accomplish that task so spontaneous. As if the slightest carelessness can clog even the basic biological function. Stand by absolute, in the brain and body. And in the throat, too: the vocal cords of stone.
Only when David decided to look away Keith was able to return to master their own reactions. And it was
inevitable blush at that point - lower eyes.
Take exit strategies to try in vain - to design desertions - only to lift his head when shooting the man decided to speak again. Coming together to respond to his smile with a nervous smile - to clear his throat.
whisper something.
that afternoon when he entered in his car - when he closed the door behind him - the only hope was that the old man would end quickly. That the lawyer let him go free.
And that prayer had continued to echo in my head like a mantra for the duration of their visit to the exhibition - as the man teased him and he felt himself dying, and even provocations seems to die with him, breaking his foot. Becoming
thorns.
could not say what has changed now.
Maybe just the vibration of the air - the smile of David that while still dangerous as it is made more gentle.
But when leaving the restaurant the evening chill hits him in the face, Keith found himself regretting the wasted time wishing that the minutes pass faster. A count while they spent, watching them fade.
It is as if just noticing it now, maybe things could have been otherwise - that the ending was not already decided in principle. And that opportunity has now passed, permanently, leaving no space even to remember. Without allowing
touch.
The car seems to take the lock seal that awareness: watch the lights turn on, and defined the features of the lawyer thinks there is ending, that encounter strange that Vivian has orchestrated and carried away that he was reluctantly , just to keep a promise made without thinking. Maybe. Or perhaps, simply because they refuse would have been too much even for his cowardice.
There's silence, while taking place in the car. A silence
different from what he had done them company during the outward journey, and other than that that punctuated the dinner already knows farewell, perhaps. A way as any to take leave from the present. Gently.
Spying on the corner of the eye movements of David, Keith watches him turn the keys in the framework to start the engine, fasten your seat belt with the practical actions of the driver for a lifetime. She looks at him as he bends the car radio and tune the frequency to a preset station, and it is as if he had already learned his movements, almost. As if they had been mapped in the mind - as if he had the right to feel homesick already.
This is perhaps almost a surprise when the man turns to him, instead of starting. "The eleven, "he announced, looking him straight in the eye. As he always does.
raised his eyebrows, then. He tilts his head slightly.
"Disco?"
That word is so far from the perspective where you have already done by Keith did not correspond to any of the concepts that the mind makes available, at that time.
"Disco?" Repeated, confused.
Catching his smile, David closes his left hand on the steering wheel.
"It's a dark place with loud music and a lot of testosterone in the air," he says, amused. "In Typically, you go to dance. "
" Yes, but I know what ... "
She stops, embarrassed. He looks away.
He can not understand why the man has the supernatural ability to slow down his reflexes so - confusing it that way.
It was never a particularly sociable type, but certain levels of social maladjustment not touched them since he was five years old and adults should talk to strangers.
probably not blushed so much even at that time.
pinching your fingers into a fist to catch up on some 'control, take a deep breath.
Lancia look out the window - fast.
"You do not think I'm not a type of dancing," he admits, quietly.
It's hard not to think about what others would respond, but then I slowly turned back to him.
impossible not to imagine the speed with which Vivian would have agreed - the way it would end that night if he were in his place. The completely different direction that would take away.
There is no need to express it aloud, rejection, David seems to understand perfectly - perhaps one expected as early as when he made the offer.
"I I take home? "question, in fact, quiet. Adding, almost in a tip: "Tired?"
forcing a smile, Keith nods.
"I think so. It's better. "
And the other gears in reverse - you enter into the roadway. With calm as ever, leaning just to adjust the radio volume.
not seem disappointed by the response - not even seem to want to insist, to change his mind.
"You have class early tomorrow?" Calls instead.
And it is the naturalness with which those words slip from his lips, perhaps, to destabilize Keith further. The feeling of intimacy, of family routines.
alienating, in that situation.
swallow, turn your head toward him. The slope slightly, nodded.
"At eight o'clock," he says.
"Again ... Physics?" A smile. "Or something even more terrible?"
"Mathematics. The combination on-time is not the best, in fact ... "
" Try to explain why you are so attracted to this kind of materials, "laughs the other, returning watching the road. "What makes you prefer one to a square root cazzutissima mirabilante modern art paintings, for example? Why is that strange look. The whole thing intrigues me. "
Shrugging his shoulders, Keith just change the seat position.
"Perhaps it is because I understand the square root," begins, a little 'wavering.
is not the first time facing such a speech - others have asked questions like, others have already responded with the only motivation he can find.
But David is different from any other party - and is different this time, the very reason they are talking about. The embarrassment that locks the throat and fear of failure - to show a little colder. More child. And the certainty that, if you will not pay attention, it will eventually close the evening on a note more insipid than the rest.
cleared his throat, looks at the man cautiously. Out of the corner of the eye.
"I mean, if mathematicians do not understand something, you know that you still have formulas on which to lean. Calculations to be done. Regole da applicare - regole fisse. Precise. The same for everyone, and always valid. It is not about impressions, or ... I do not know. " Shrugs, turning his head. "There is nothing arbitrary. You can make mistakes or get confused, but there's your problem: If you really commit yourself to overcome it. With art is different, there is nothing real. Only interpretations. Sensations. "Blushing, makes a face. "And if you feel nothing, it is difficult to appreciate."
"Yeah," said then the other, - his eyes fixed upon him through the rearview mirror. "And this need to have everything under control? Where does, mh? "
" I do not know. "Blushing, Keith collects his head between his shoulders. "Maybe it is genetic ..." he mutters.
"Genetics." A smile. Amused. "Probably."
David lowers the window, then. He lights a cigarette, inhaling the smoke.
"So that's why I will destabilize much?" Question suddenly, as if asking for any information.
And Keith feels his heart stop in his chest - the lungs drained of oxygen, even hours had passed since the last time you took my breath.
did not expect that the man decided to bring everything into the open - perhaps he would able to predict if the tone of the conversation he had remained the same as they were when the show - when the other seemed to enjoy only destabilize it. To destroy his defenses and bring it down, do blush.
By that logic, a lunge like this would have been perfectly logical. Almost predictable.
But something seems to have changed during the dinner and it is strange to find himself again now so bare.
not have his smirk even more to blame - they can not read his face going to hurt.
A simple question. Innocent, perhaps. Totally unaware of its destructive charge.
It seems it took centuries before the item decides to return. Before the will power to allow Keith to venture that one monosyllable - before the breath is able to flow again.
"There ..." Quickly, looks away. You are feeling flush.
"It's not that," he says finally, biting his tongue to keep quiet. "Or at least," he adds. "Not only."
But maybe David really did not intend to put him at ease, while moving the conversation in that direction, because it seems that his embarrassment is enough to convince him to drop the subject. The air
ripples around them - tends to sting the skin and nerves - while under the wheels of the car will roll out the familiar streets of the city center, and over the window, the landscape becomes more everyday.
crossings and sidewalks seen a thousand times. The gardens in which Keith played as a child.
It's so weird going ahead now, under circumstances so different from those of the past. Sitting in the car with a man - his body a few inches away. Alone.
And all that did not happen, to weigh each other.
All that could happen, and to which he has already put a brake.
felt his heart pounding in my throat when Finally, the jaguar on the road to his house.
Because the territory is still best known and everything should be easier now, but David has the power to turn even the most ordinary meaning of the horizons.
And sit in the shade, at his side, is even more unsettling than if the glass window is lit window of your living room instead of the anonymous background of a room in which you never entered. If you know that this place should at least belong to you, and you realize instead that there are no hiding places.
That he is already everywhere.
It's scary.
Have the hand on the door handle, Keith, when the man approached the right - is already counting the final seconds that remain, looking for the courage to face them.
eyes set on the path that runs through his garden, it focuses on the movements of David, at his side - the bend of his arm on the gear lever. The twist of the wrist to turn the keys in the picture and stop the engine.
Imagine his face.
And when time is almost succeeded in forcing his face into an expression that he does not reveal its too uncomfortable.
is almost unable to decide what is the best form of greeting, too. To find the courage to ask him.
"Ok, then ... Thank you," she murmurs, smiling sheepishly.
But then he meets her gaze, and any other word falls in the silence of those eyes - in the strength with which they are immobilized.
In their strongly authoritarian. Solid.
"You find it really so difficult?" Asks the man - decided - and the brain returns to jam like every time he asks something. The heart leaps into my throat - the skin reddens. Bleach.
not the slightest idea of what the other's wondering - the wording is too vague, his reflexes slowed down too. Attention irretrievably focused on the tiniest details - the shape of the fingers of David still closed on the steering wheel. The tension of the jaw and the black of the irises - the black pupils.
"Difficult to what?" He murmured, in a faint voice.
But the other is almost chillingly calm when the shadows mentions a half-smile.
"Manage the attraction," he says, still stuck in his eyes. Magnets.
Without looking away, casually stretching out his hand to turn off the radio - a gesture controlled. Almost hypnotic.
And it's even harder to be able to order their thoughts, now - to face silence.
find the strength to answer back. If possible, leave the subject. Exit
that car. Now.
"No ... I have no problem with that," replies softly.
The diversion does not seem to work, however - not even David pretends to believe him.
He leans forward, however, with every intention to go into that. Do not drop it again.
"No?" Amused smiles.
Maybe he was just preparing for this moment, even when he first approached the issue. Even when it seemed he wanted to drop those questions. Impossible not to suspect him.
"No." Pause. "... It is not that the problem," insists Keith.
And he knows not to be more convincing now than it was immediately before, but can not find a more effective form of defense. Because while it looks away to launch another look out the window knows that this conversation will not escape until the door opens.
knows that David will continue until at him, the door will never open it. What will
nailed there. Without hiding.
biting his lip, tried to breathe deeply. As regularly as possible.
But it does not.
Because when the man speaks again, more softly, the vibration of the same hue seems to slip through his hair. Touch the back of his head.
make it even weaker.
And when she whispers, in a whisper: "So much the better," the smile is mischievous. Warm.
Too close.
Keith realizes it only at that moment, that is no longer just his voice. That his fingers are really closing on the neck - that draw on the skin smooth curves. Lens.
creepy.
And her lips are already very close - his smile knows of smoke and wine. The skin is hot, even through the fabric of the shirt - almost burning.
just bowing her head towards him, the man rests his hand on the other side.
"It would have been a rather delicate problem, otherwise," she murmurs, sinking his fingers through his hair. Looking straight at me. With an absolute firmness.
"Why I am going to kiss you, Keith," he adds. Pianissimo.
"And of course," he continues, while his breath caress your lips. While the right slides under the edge of the fabric. On the skin. "Of course, I would not ever something you're not wishing you too ... you're not wanting to all night. With all of yourself ... "
Closing my eyes, contact Keith guess even before the kiss has really touched. For a moment, can almost imagine that touch will become more profound - that the heart beats slow down and become more balanced, more calm. It opens the mouth and the warmth of human hands to drop to fully cover the skin - to calm the chills, and ignite again. That his taste
teach a different light - a heaviness truer.
that the body learns to move. To let go.
is only a thought, though - the nostalgia faded as the morning that steals a dream, a vague and almost unreal.
Why is it sufficient that the mouths touch on, though - that the real excitement suddenly run like a burst of electricity down my spine - because the reality of what is happening back to rain on him like a cold shower.
And you turn the window of the house behind him, where his parents are watching some program on television. We thicken the reality of that night, and the exhibition, and embarrassment, and dinner.
Memories of the first time they met - the presence of Raven at his side, and those black eyes even then. Even then, magnetic.
Caress barely sketched last week.
Vivian.
Turn head to the side is probably more a knee-jerk reaction than a conscious decision: a need to put a little distance between the awareness and chills. Between the mouth of David and what is happening and what should not happen - and him.
man hears the surprise of her lips rubbing on the skin, however - freezes the chest muscles under her hands, when contact the firm and takes just sketched is transformed into strength. In
rejection.
let out a deep breath, Keith squeezes his eyes - you pull back slowly. "I do not ..." he says, uncertainly. Almost confused. "You better not. David. "
will not look at him, though. He lacks the courage and perhaps the will to do so - the ability to observe with detachment as the clash between reality and fantasy is flowing again in the complete elimination of any possibility of growth. Of all desire.
Moreover, the tension is already quite palpable in the air. No need to lift their eyes to realize that the burning heat of a few moments before has been replaced by anything else - just to note the almost sudden stillness of his hands. Of his body. And
entire second pass, then, before the time you come back running. Before the close
melt, slowly, and David turned back the trunk forward.
A press your back on the backrest of the seat. To breathe in, slowly.
not say anything.
clenched his fists on the steering wheel only, and the veins are defined on the backs of hands as when shifting gears. Like when there is an effort by do or something to hold.
Frustration, maybe. Perhaps
anger.
"Fine," marks Finally, clearing his voice.
inhale, try a kind of nervous smile.
"Let me guess. I bet you're not the kind ... "And Keith would
thousands of possible answers - a thousand explanations. Words already organized in the mind, already perfectly formed sentences and for once, no uncertainty. None stand by.
could tell him to Vivian, the relief of seeing her eyes become increasingly clear, as the months passed. Could tell you of his smile and all the things he said - Of all the things he thought listening.
could say that would be a betrayal even if it was Vivian himself, to ask him to kiss him. It could tell him that he does not know her, some things - that are too dangerous. They do too badly.
That there is no reason.
that basically is a good thing. It should also be good.
But in reality all these explanations mean little, at that moment, when he just turned his head to escape the kiss that has always dreamed of. When sitting in the dark, in that car, and nostalgia is already so strong as to overshadow even the embarrassment. But not enough to convince him to lean in avanti. E provare.
Perché forse è davvero soltanto una, la risposta possibile. Una la verità da accettare.
Non sei il tipo.
Né di andare a vedere una mostra né di lasciarsi invitare ad una cena. Né di finire la serata in discoteca né di concluderla in auto, sotto casa. Il tipo che si lascia toccare.
Che si lascia vivere. Baciare.
Ed la croce che ti porti dietro da sempre - l'ostacolo che nessuna delle tue frustrazioni ti potrà mai aiutare a scavalcare. Il meccanismo che soffoca ogni istinto, ogni anelito, e che ti fa precipitare a terra prima ancora di aver iniziato il volo. Per evitare dents too painful, perhaps.
Perhaps to escape the fate and her injuries.
But when the car door locks, in silence, and Keith feel the air hitting the skin and murmurs: "I'm sorry," knows that there is no salvation in the direction it is moving along.
There is no shelter, no rationality, no courage.
Only a stretch tank and a little 'flat - perfectly built up more indestructible, but completely incapable of opening to life.
Unable to resist the pressure of the world.
And perhaps, after all, to really protect it.

ROSA DEI VENTI is licensed under a CCA NC-ND 2.5 Italia License . Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at: http://rosaventi.altervista.org/copyrigth.html .

 

80s Wrestling Singlet

"And you have planted in my awesome stars

There is no real reason I'm at the keyboard now, should not there be one that pushes me to finally open this lj.
In reality there.
that traveling will always change his skin, discover - or fail to take the train for years, or the air cleared.
The subtle disquiet. The constant chatter of people
of apocalyptic prophecies Maia sull'eruzione the volcano in Iceland!
Or perhaps, take the train alone after year, even if for half an hour. What was missing
see the landscape under the sun and run behind a dirty glass?
Or maybe the 12 hour bus, a slow descent that leaves room for thought allowing him to breathe deeply, to do some 'bad.
In fact, I feel stronger, it took a course in which I can not speak, a lovely town, Ticino and a covered bridge. Wonderful people and positive people running around the clock. It took
Cla.
living there for four months. Oh dear.
Nothing was strange to see it as a move to Pavia, focused on the brain as a foreign object to the place as I was. Almost asked her how she know the roads, not to look around, not surprising for the huge fir trees, so different from our palms.
stupid.
Even more alienating was seeing in his home * * and not our , see you at ease as if reaching up on our bed and not on the small, attached to the wall of a room for two, which is typical for students off-site ... or for two persons!
the remainder of his roommates are good. A vaguely anti-social, the other very nice, keeps an eye on and the wand as you would an older sister. is this enough to earn my eternal love.
And then, to know his friends, the faces of those who live in the minutes and days that I lose, arms and shoulders close while I am away. And it was uncomfortable
then be confused with her from them, and it was strange, maybe just because I happened to be a bit '. There was
the same Claudia, a reflection, almost a game.
a joke.
be because it is not a neutral territory where both exist in Pavia there is only you, At home we are the same, I am there to be like her, I'm the one in the mirror.
Reflection.
It does not really too bad.

PS
Unnecessary lj from now on is open. ^ ^ A witness who
: gastroenteritis can survive. ^ ^ PPS


The idiot is now presented with a gift, "The weight of the butterfly Erri De Luca, so it seemed less idiotic than usual.
(I'll make a post just him afterwards, just to insult him publicly and analyze their behavior primitive-idiots. The idiot obviously, De Luca. ^ ^)

PS (cubed) The title is
taken from a poem by Neruda. ^ ^ And it reminds
something deep, past that I can not grasp.
For now stands there, waiting for an epiphany. ^ ^

How To Catch Shiny Pokemon In Heart Gold

FEATHER BOA

P I U M E D I B O A
of Roh & Fairy



Chapter 5

Black- Living Nightmare

The fish is staring at him. With only one eye.
He's lying on the flat, lifeless, and lays Dylan with one eye because the other has remained cruelly submerged under a pyramid of boiled potatoes.
"do not you tender?" seems to ask. "Do not you think the saddest thing in the world??"
Sighing, he laid his fork on the table. The sole
Ash Ash is staring - she, with both eyes - but her brother does not seem in any way touched by the story.
"Well?" Do not you eat? " he asks, sinking the knife into the bowels of his victim.
Dylan has always hated lunch in the school canteen - nobody cares to ever serve food in a less shocking. Less brutal.
This, in its view, speaks volumes about the level of civilization that we can expect from public education.
For years, again to his parents that school will end up brutalized - the feeling that no one should force their children to grow in this environment.
Needless to say, has never been heard.
The only thing is that it is satisfied at least, fortunately, the enamel has today is proving to be quite adequate to the mournful occasion. Black
living nightmare.
If he felt, he would be perfect.
On the other hand, his mood was already quite dark when he moved to sack the usual the usual perfume tester in front of the school, before coming to class: not yet managed to console himself for the failure of his plan - has not yet been able to develop an alternative. And the days are passing, in the meantime.
Ash as merciless with its sole.
Sometimes it really seems everything is lost now - that there are no more hope.
Intent, remove the pot with a forlorn gesture.
"But you can know that you?" asks his brother, watching him curiously. "Discovered some double-headed?"
course, can not understand, nor was the school, in fact, to produce the sensitivity of those devastating Ash.
He is so kind, unfortunately. In
more, he's chilling ability to call to mind always his worst nightmares. The most secret fears.
"split ends??" In fact, says Dylan. Alarmed. "For me they're being split ends??"
"Absolutely not," replied his brother, seraphic. "If I had, I'd understand the face of a funeral. ... But this"
"So, let me take prevents some heart attacks. Thank you," he mutters. The still beating heart as after a stroke - such as when the teacher calls his name the question of mathematics.
Now that I think, is also planned that. In the afternoon.
Seriously, today is the day suitable for suicide. Could
jump since the window ledge - meditate - but no, too much blood. It takes something more worthy, something that can also guarantee a certain elegance to her body. Poison, maybe. He was crying.
"Oh, but there's Candy!" suddenly jumps up, almost startled by her brother. "And Babs!" adds, entranced.
"Are you kidding?" Ash yelled, turning to check the shutter. "Shit ... But not you going to call them here!?"
"Hey Baca, hey!"
"Dee!" exclaims one of the girls, one blonde, facendoglisi meeting with his lunch tray. "Ommioddio but glaze cool!"
"Dee, but it is a living nightmare??" the other squeaks.
Dylan to get your hands in delight. They are his best friends, the ones: her loves. Both
cheerleaders for years, both very popular, both leading experts in cosmetics. And he adores.
The day could not appear with their selections for the cheerleaders, remember, was the absolute worst of his life. He
still have nightmares sometimes. It is still bad, every game of the basketball team.
"Where did you find it??" Candy is wondering - the blonde - who were studying the reflections of the enamel.
"I thought it was not yet on the market!" cries Babs.
"Oh, but keep it on display right here below!"
"In perfumery front of the school?? "
" I swear! This morning I felt I was there ... "
" Dee, see you later, "Ash interrupted him, getting up quickly." There is that Jordan is calling me ... "
Sisi ..." he says. Without badargli.
and return to tell how he found the glaze - how it happened that he decided to choose just one, and how committed they have looked bad for the umpteenth time - if not raising her eyes discovered the eyes of two girls both point in the same direction. On the back of his brother, exactly.
On his hurried flight.
"Say, but then you talk with your parents?" application Babs, pointing with his chin.
Sighing, he shakes his head.
"I do not seem to give too much weight to the matter, unfortunately ..."
"No, but because it looks worse every day ..."
"It is becoming increasingly cranky!"
"Yeah ..." he admits Dylan, dejected. "I do not understand how my worry that they may not always be around so ruffled. Slaying sole as if nothing had happened ..."
"And only socializes with his iPod ..." adds Candy.
He nods. "That is not remotely interested in cosmetics ..."
"It seems incredible that you are twins ..." says Babs, leaning over to look at himself in the glass of the glass. "And with the Where's My Car, instead? "question again." How is with him? "
" Oh ... With Chris, the situation is even more catastrophic ... "is forced to reveal Dylan.
With depressed air, shrugs.
" I can not understand what his problem, honestly. Why is that okay still a man, okay that you can expect great things from the aesthetic sensibility of a male. But still, it would be obvious even to an orangutan as I'm cute. And sexy. And undesirable ... "
" It seems to me impossible that you do not known, Dee! "Says Candy, indignantly." Are you sure that you have adopted the right strategy? "
" But he just laughed my boa !!!!! !! " he screams. "I called bird !!!!!!!!"
"Exactly." With the manner of an expert, Candy's glances. "I fear you may have over the ..."
"Overrated?" Dylan repeated, cocking his back. It shifts the gaze from
Candy Babs, in the silence that follows. Candy From Babs.
The two friends are cleared his throat, as if undecided whether or not to something very important.
"Dee. You're still a kid, unfortunately inexperienced ..." began the blonde finally, cautiously. "You do not have enough experience of life. Men."
"Well. I know you are human brutes!" he protests.
"Yeah." Shaking his head, Babs sighed. "But still ad aspettarti da loro reazioni troppo raffinate. Troppo complesse. Capisci?"
"No," ammette Dylan.
Scambiandosi un'occhiata, le due ragazzine si sporgono sul tavolo per parlargli a bassa voce.
"Dee, rifletti. Prova a metterti nell'ottica giusta. Se tu fossi un essere primitivo, quale sarebbe la tua priorità?"
"Procurarmi una pelle di leopardo!" esclama lui, deliziato.
"Ma no!" Le due sospirano - all'unisono. "No, prima ancora! Prima ancora di pensare alla moda!"
Silenzio.
"Cogliere fiori per abbellire la spelonca?"
"Procacciarti cibo!" rivela Babs, sconfortata. "Da che mondo è mondo, Dee, il più elementare impulso umano riguarda la sopravvivenza. So the food. This imprint is left in the genetic code even now, you know? And the more the mindset of an individual is poorly articulated, the more food becomes the main driving force. "
" Really ... "he mutters Dylan - with a grimace.
Among other things, can not remember ever having heard Babs talk too much forbitamente.
"Chris does not seem like much early on ..." ventures.
front of him, however, Candy has raised an eyebrow.
"No?" presses. "So you want to say that breakfast is not the His first thought in the morning? Would you say that before you brush your hair? Whether you file your nails? "
" Hm ... "
" I'm sure would have decapitated the sole as did your brother, Dylan! Only potersela eat faster! "
" Okay, okay, "then gives him. Surrenderer.
Unfortunately, Chris is all too easy to imagine sitting at that table - sinking his fork firmly into the belly of the fish and its mouth chews with relish the tail.'s belly. And even the head - that surely would realize that there is even a head.
At least Ash has had the foresight to behead.
is recollecting the top of that now where he has already heard the odd terms Babs with whom you have just expressed: it was the biology class last Friday.
And that can only confirm that it is truth genuine. Facts that they have acquired by history, and generally recognized.
Men are primitive. Chris is primitive.
He shuddered, looking away from the eye of the sole.
"So what should I do?" question, wearily.
But the answer comes immediately: direct, precise. Brilliantly
consequential.
"Take me by the throat, right?" Candy grins.
Suddenly, as if Dylan's mind is open wide the doors of divine omniscience.
"Preparing a meal!" says, elated. "An aphrodisiac dinner!"
"Dinner very, very hot!" Babs nods, satisfied. "With shellfish, maybe."
"And so much pepper!"
"Paprika"
"Chili!"
"Ginger!"
"Oh God, oh God!" jumping on him, clapping his hands. "Should I even get drunk, you say ????"
"Oh, no!" Candy the brakes immediately. "No, absolutely not! Then there is the risk that not stood up more ..."
"Ah, true ..."
Pause.
"But I am not very clear one thing ..." she murmurs and then Dylan, absorbed. "How exactly that should happen then move on to dinner by sex? That is, I think more or less when aggredirà? After the lobster?"
"Ehhhhhh, it's not so simple!" her friend warns him back. "Remember the speech primitive mental structure, Dee. Need input! "
" A what? "
turning his eyes to heaven, the girls sigh.
" Dee. Focus, please. What is the most primitive appliance that comes to mind, hm? "
Frown, he moves quickly review the kitchen of his mother. Open every door. Each piece of furniture.
Carefully, he strives to see all the gadgets who remembers.
"The tritafagioli?" try finally.
Across the table, her friends stare at him still.
"The tritafagioli?" Babs repeated, slowly. "What the hell would a tritafagioli, Dee?"
"It a robot that my grandmother used to make vegetable soup ... " he says, cautiously. "I mean, I think not only trite beans, really. But she used it to chop those, here. And my mother. Maybe sometimes we even chop ..."
"Okay, go for the tritafagioli," concedes the other, waving hand. "So, imagine that Chris is a tritafagioli ..."
He laughs, amused.
Babs gives him a dirty look.
"Dylan. Please!" warns him, seriously. "Do you want or do not want it ... Where's My Car"
"Okay, okay. Chris is a tritafagioli."
"Good."
Pause.
"Now imagine that you have already provided to tritafagioli the key."
"Beans?"
"Exactly. It's chock full of beans, your machine. I've uploaded. And already the first step. "
" At this point, what you need to ensure that the tritafagioli into action? "Candy demand, with the most dazzling smile.
Dylan blinked. Stunned.
" Do not I know. My mother? "Question.
" But let it be your mother! God, Dylan, "said the friend, handing a slap." You need to insert the plug into the current, right? "
" input "Babs explains.
But he still does not understand. The idea of waking Chris turning them inside out wearing an electric shock to hundreds of volts does not seem much genius - certainly everything that you need to straighten him stand on end. Even hair. But it may come out a bit 'dazed, perhaps. Maybe even dead!
"So, translating the metaphor in practical terms," Candy again, and he is breathing a sigh of relief. Clear the mind the image of a half Chris charred.
Straighten your back, nodding.
"Translating the metaphor, I said, once you have the well-gorged Where's My Car chili and lobster, do not you will only have one thing to do to trigger the reaction erotica."
"trigger," he repeated, dazed. "The reaction erotica ..."
Silence.
"What?"
"Well. Do not really have an embarrassment of choice as to the options available," says Babs, stretching smile on the lip gloss. "You could try it with some sharp little speech, you could melt it with a massage or a little 'indiscretion." He chuckles. "You could also arrange a strip behind the screen like Kim Basinger in Nine and a half weeks."
"Like who?"
"But I would choose the strategy of the wine I were you," she resumed, without badargli. "It is always the best. Live, foolproof, fast. In addition, it also relies heavily on guilt. This is not to be underestimated."
"Simply put, Dee, at some point in the dinner you will have spilled wine on his pants," said Candy, more quietly. "Into believing it was him, crashing into the glass by accident. What it's his fault! "
" Your beautiful trousers ruined because of him! "groans Babs.
Candy launches urletto heartbreaking. The other echoed.
" Then you show him the trouble that combined ... "
" 'll touch him! "Babs laughs." Under the guise of helping get the stain to dry ... "
" And in the end informed him that going to change you, "Candy ends, triumphantly." disappear in the next room. And reappear before him wearing the dress more sexy and provocative in the world. Dramatic neckline. Vent chilling. You literally will jump on you, Dee! "
" Literally on him, the word "repeated the other.
And he puts his hand over his mouth, too also excited to say a word. Even to breathe.
He can not believe it.
hour before he was convinced he would die a virgin, who would have to resign themselves to the dullness of flat-ascetic existence, that all was lost.
But now again has a plan - and this time it's a plan that does not include bankruptcy. A brilliant plan! Vera strategy!
stirred, stretching his arms on the table to shake hands of friends.
The look in his eyes, with deep gratitude. Almost
, began to cry ...
"But the problem is that Ash is almost always at home with us at night ..." she whispers, distressed. "Then, I have a habit No one buys me dizzy ... never dress like that, I have only rags ... "It feels very
Cinderella before the ball, and love it.
He likes the idea of having his personal fairy - her prince charming.
's half-brother to be neutralized.
sniffling, fixed Candy and Babs with eyes full of trust.
"Oh, but that's definitely not a problem," says the blonde, put out a tuft from his forehead. "My mother has plenty of them, of clothing kind! You'll bring one that fits with your mark! "
" Would you really? "He moans.
" Sure! "A smile
.
" For the rest, Dee, you have to be optimistic, "Candy again, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. "There we are, okay? You will see that we will think of something to get rid of your brother!"
"Hey! But there is the feast of Cathy, this weekend!" Babs jumps up as damaged by a sudden idea.
"Right!"
"We could send it there!"
"I'll move along for two whole days, you think?"
"Hm ..." is limited to meet Dylan. He began to feel strange.
Restless, left to drain the eye along the perspective of the tables - on the faces of the other guys.
no longer able to see Ash.
The head of his sole is still in the pot - which was sitting on the bench is always empty.
And there's that sort of strange malaise, down her throat. A feeling of dizziness that seems a little 'family and a bit' again.
a bit 'crazy. And a little 'scary.
"What have you Dee?" Candy demand, patting the arm.
"Nothing," he assures.
But Ash is gone - can not find it. I can not imagine two whole days without his brother - so many hours. So many miles between them.
almost winces when someone shakes your shoulder.
"Well?" Back in the classroom? "
"Ash!" exclaims, feeling the muscles relax suddenly. The lips stretch into a smile, the air return to be slight. Transparent.
Behind him, his brother instead shows the grim frown of a man condemned to death. He always
phrase, when Candy and Babs are nearby.
It looked even more grim when one of the girls leans toward him, giggling: "Oh, Mister Joy! You already abandoned to return to class?"
"Always friendly, he!" sneers the other.
"And we just talked about you, but ..."
"Of you and Cathy, exactly!"
Instinctively, Dylan is held back.
"But how many damn times do I have to tell you that there is nothing between me and Cathy!" Ash jumps up, like a script. "Are you deaf as well as crazy?"
"Come on, but if you're so cute!" Babs squeaks.
"That's cute!"
"Then Saturday also know his parents are not you excited?? "
Ash's eyes, suddenly, becomes confused.
" Saturday? "he repeated, frowning.
" Saturday already, "says Candy." The party! "
" Do not tell me you do not go to the party with your girlfriend! "
" I told you that is not my ... "Ash hangs - with eyes wide." But why is this Saturday?!? "Two
days - while Dylan repeats. Inwardly.
and does not understand the reason for the anxiety - of that foreboding underground. Do not you explain.
is quite unlikely that Ash wants to go to Cathy's birthday, and even if he tried to do it never moves on without him.
will remain safely at home. Nothing
aphrodisiac dinner, and then, and nothing dramatic dress. No wine on his pants.
should be happy?
Sighing, he let it slide on the bench.
"Of course!" Candy is saying, meanwhile, with all the air of one who has in mind a definite plan. "Do not tell me that you had forgotten!"
"All the same, men!" Babs snorts.
"Poor Cathy!"
"And even poor Dee!" the other takes over, annoyed. "You know that your brother is keen to party Cathy, Ash! Let you go alone??"
Even more puzzled, Ash turns to him. "Since when are you gonna go?" the question, and Dylan flapping eyelids. Confused.
Hesitating, glances at her friend.
"But in fact ..." he began, uncertain.
Only at that moment arrives a kick in the shin under the table. He winces. And while
Ash turns, Babs began performing in a theater of curious strange gestures. The index
stuck under the armpit.
tongue lolling, eyes vacant.
Suddenly, Dylan understands everything.
"Oh yes!" sure, straightening his back shooting. "Yes, Ash, I want you so much! Let's go, I beg you, I want to put on my new shirt, and I want to try the nail polish that changes color! And I want to know your future in-laws, please! Come to the party Cathy, please! "
Sometimes it seriously frightened by the evil minds of Baca.
His plan is now fully complete, well structured in its entirety and completely, absolutely brilliant.
will work for strength. There is no doubt .
Saturday after school, when everything is already planned to leave, tell him to feel bad. will put the thermometer under hot water. I will show to her mother.
At that time, Ash will necessarily have to go to the party Cathy alone.
And he will have the room free.
may seduce Chris!
separation between his parents should not be a big problem is convinced. Just make eyes at her father - always works. Invent an excuse.
now, nothing can stop him!
"Ash! I beg of you !!!!" exclaimed again. Clinging to his shirt. "I beseech you, let's go party!"
Suspicious, his brother squints. "We hold so much because they want to get the new shirt?" application. "But you know that Chris is moving on Monday night - I thought we'd be with him ..."
"But for that!" Dylan wails. "Oh, Ash! It will be heartbreaking," he adds, while her friends nodding solemnly. "Watching him disappear over the horizon to pack ... shocked ... I'll stay for life, I'm sure! I do not ever recover more! "
" But it seems a bit 'ugly let alone the last day .... "
" Well. Or the last day or forever, "Babs involved. Circulation." Dee Why die if forced him to attend to such torture. "
" It is not nice, you know, be on your conscience the passing of your brother! " Candy hisses, while Dylan abandons lifeless against the back. already dying. Inconsolable.
Above, Ash looks at him in amazement.
"Oh, all right," he muttered, raising his eyes to heaven. "We will look at home with Dad, okay? "
is made.
It was not so difficult, in the end - there was even need to be brought tears to the eyes imagining the usual terrorist who places his bomb factory in the enamel.
But Dylan can not help but shake the hand of his brother, during the tour that brings them back home.
Sometimes Ash tries to break free.
But he would refer the close, without badargli. As if suddenly had a desperate need to keep up as close as possible - to walk almost attached to the side.
Like when he was little.
Like when he did not know what to do with the handfuls of balls won the machines of the beach, then if his brother did not play with him. If he could not overturn them in the palm at least half.
And it was strangely sad, look at those balls in the sunshine.
observe the reflections of colored glass - so you want them to know - without being able to feel the soul invaded by that rainbow of lights. Without the nostalgia streak stopped in depth. Somewhere the soul.
Silently. When Ash
backpack down on the chair in the room, entering the house, Dylan does the same. The following
keeping pace while climbing the stairs - walking beside him down the hall.
E launches his jacket over her on the bed of the room.
The chatter behind Ash does not stop until the bathroom door. Until it raises an eyebrow - on hold.
Then he blinked, bewildered. He looks around.
Chuckling, takes a step back.
"Ah, yes ..." stutters. "I look down below, huh ..."
But when the bathroom door closes, between them, sitting on the ground floor. He started fiddling with the zipper of his sweatshirt. Hums to get together.
It could not say whether Chris has already returned home or whether it should still fall.
With his eyes fixed on the door handle, wait for Ash leaves the bathroom and can not think of anything to smear him on the carpet of the room to listen to the music. Or tickle him. To talk some more '.
Simply, all the rest, it is already forgotten.

Feather Boa by Roh and Fairy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Italy License .
Permissions beyond the scope of this license May be available at http://rosaventi.altervista.org/copyright.html