David - Revival
City of shit.
avenues that converge towards the usual cross, a skyline too quickly smothered by mountains and the stupid road map which is divided into zones so as to be clearly defined in its simplicity, even nauseating, he studies the dislocation.
Rosenfield. Whole
km infested by green areas whose only use seems to be to piss dogs and a lake with paved years before would have been avoided, for example, to force the district courts to set against that of art galleries. Avoiding that the sacred and the profane meet, perhaps, and could trigger the apocalypse.
would be a good idea.
City of shit. David
Sometimes you find yourself thinking that no one else would be able, in an area so small, with impunity to carve out something closer to a double life more than honorable. No one devoid of his cunning, however, or his nerve. His innate talent for survival.
Rosenfield is able to be terribly selective - a kind of organic farming in which each cluster of cells must necessarily evolve their facilities if not will risk succumbing to boredom.
Yet as his genius is indisputable - as years of field experience have taught him to slip between neighborhoods evading all the trouble lurking - a city of shit is still a city of shit. Nothing to do.
And no wonder so much a fool as Allen has done for trespassing in the district where a bloody ridiculous pile of bricks that someone masquerading as art has attracted the attention of his ass taking his steps in a gallery fucking jerk.
Magan was there, of course - always the theory that a city the fuck is this in particular because the space needed to avoid trouble is colonized by certain little lake with ducks. O dull meadow of daisies.
And when the most of your idiot members met your wife you can be sure that you are preparing for big trouble - trouble historians. Just what you need on the eve of a trial.
Shit.
David has now lost count of all the times he chewed between the teeth, that word, since returning home he found the girl asleep in her bedroom. He did not even
had to wonder what he was doing in bed at seven - it is simply moved in the room. He poured whiskey in silence. He looked at Megan.
And maybe that sentence was to melt in your mouth all the bitter poison more subtle - perhaps the icy composure with which he articulated his wife, property: "I did not think would have gotten that far."
But it did not swim until exhausted, after, or push the turbo Jaguar along the strip of asphalt of the highway. It is not sip white wine served in that space or anonymous note that girl with the cheeky insistence of the game more intriguing.
If Megan had so far maintained his usual silence ice, with respect to the Holmes case, congratulations to Allen who welcomed them - with as much determination that he told her her husband had struggled to get it, that office, and about how much he had wanted to - which obviously could not detonate a tension already exasperated at the start.
David knew that a showdown was inevitable - he had never deceived to be able to get away.
What I had not brought to account, however, was the fact that the disgust of his wife would have stuck him with that stubborn - that that phrase would come back again and again like an echo. Echo insistent.
I did not think would ever come to that.
"Shit," repeated, gloomily. But even that seems to serve.
Because she had spoken again, forcing him face to face with what could not afford to look - his daughter, who grew up just enough that it would be enough to imagine him with his hands of Holmes, the faces of the girls that they would have had to ignore the scars in court, and those just young boys who should have been nailed to the wall. The faces of their parents - of the brothers.
of their fathers.
And what self-control to force the nerve to stand firm continues to break something like a chipped disk that always stops on the same note - a dissonant scratch.
Cigarettes sandpaper. David threw
still burning cigarette butt on the sidewalk - without looking around you is made off of the passers. He sank right into his jacket pocket, prompted the locks of the Jaguar.
Nothing.
simply can not afford any of this - think now - bear responsibility for any crap in the world can not be his business and what they have done if Holmes can perhaps relate to the private conscience of every common citizen in question is quite out of place that touches her, especially as long as it committed to playing a role that just happens to be a guarantee of balance in any adversarial democratic world. Who happens to also represent his job - nothing personal and no position subjective.
None of this, absolutely.
But damn it, will also be entitled to practice his profession without that this is because every time mutinies family of hypocrites - not that he is forced to feel like a monster or a ruthless social climber if his career will necessarily depend on the fate of his client. Just because the system works so fucked.
is hard enough.
Maintain control of the nerves, and having to make a religion of security. Posting of a dress to wear every morning, like a goddamn black gown. As the absolute determination of all eyes - the perfect setting of the voice.
is not a trivial matter.
And he wanted to look his wife in the eye - say that there are times when he is tired. Tired so deeply that not enough sleep, and not just smoke. Not enough to silence inflicted Samuel and not enough girls in clubs - not just the Jaguar and even his daughter, who took his first steps on the carpet.
Sometimes you can almost not be able to bear it, the night - or day that is prepared in the dark. The streets too notes a city that has thee like a sticky slime or as a dark hungry animal - a pillow down over his face.
mouth. Why David
now rotate the key under the dash - probably push the accelerator until the bit rate not tighten the jaws with the required strength. And maybe even be able to take off from the mind the image of Herrera and his fuckin twenty years - suicide unconsciousness with which he approached his father and the loss of Samuel North, April or innocence intact. Megan's disgust. But it would still
that phrase, be sure to find it in the classroom. Certain of finding just the silence becomes more dense, and the sky darker. The speed slowed down.
I did not think would ever come to that.
"Shit!" hisses again - because that night it looks really unable to say the least.
Why the lights come on command, and the Jaguar shows no signs of life. The engine will not start.
And he can not quite believe that the battery has decided to plant it in the lurch right now. Just a night like that, without prior notice. Even without apparent reason.
bending down to press his forehead on the steering wheel, floor closes his eyes.
You can not - think, and laugh. He is to rush out and kicked in the body - to punch the windows.
opens the door with his usual attention, though - leaning to the left side of the phone to his ear. And look at the people on the sidewalk in front of - the insignia of a greenish local kids. The bend in neon letters.
averts look.
He can not even say why it decided to wait for the mechanic sitting on the floor of a door step after - it must be since he was fifteen years since I camped on the sidewalks and of course he is not never crossed my mind to do it since then. Samuel
probably would be the only one able to recognize in that scenario - none of his colleagues to seriously consider the fact that it is really him and maybe Megan would pull out without seeing it. Maybe even his own daughter. Keith
Yet it is setting, on the other side of the avenue. The
is staring from whole minutes, confused between the children who linger at the entrance of the pub with the green insignia. Protected by distance - from the crowd. Viewing
him.
It is not so much a surprise to find him on his way so soon either discover the wonders of the mind has its presence almost with relief, like something you've been waiting without knowing it. Nor is the desire to seek a contact - David is not going to try again. The decision was taken that night of the show, I decided it seriously. Issue closed.
But his gaze.
must feel safe, the boy - probably does not suspect that he is aware of his presence and has no reason to raise your defenses, so. Or hide.
And it's a different face, one that frowns on the side across the street - is the spontaneity of looks that David still did not know the seriousness of an expression that makes it seem more adult features and the eyes firmer. Balancing plans abruptly.
is almost unbelievable.
It is curious how the senses are allertino although there seems to be no reaction in the erotic act - strange that the desire to know the guy come back so strong right now that there is no intention nor perhaps energy to sew on any role. Now that every game is over.
But when the mechanic found a problem comes to the power supply system of the Jaguar - the car is brought to the workshop with the tow truck. He wants a car you can rent, he begins to make phone calls. Minutes pass, quickly.
And the eyes of Keith loses - the fatigue of a night that seems not to have to go on forever. In the package of cigarettes smoked at the foot of that step, while the road is empty and the music gradually becomes more distant. And his eyelids heavy.
One - David notes, glancing at the clock.
Instinctively, the focus returns to move the green insignia of the premises and the sidewalk is empty, the entry empty.
He throws his cigarette butt on the asphalt, dragging his feet.
"Is there a problem?"
Neither is surprised that much, when that voice slips to his shoulders. Whatever concerns
Keith is wrapped in an inexplicable calm this evening - reminds him a bit 'some old film in black and white or the famous Samuel fatalism.
There would probably be concerned if they had the energy. He turns slowly, however.
"The Jaguar," he says, and the surprise comes at the very moment when it sinks into her eyes - when he realizes that he is really there before and found the strength to come by myself this time. Without any pressure and it is not obligated to do so. After the embarrassment of the previous evening ...
"They had to bring in the workshop, seems to have a fault in the electrical system," she said, absently. "Nothing serious." Meanwhile
gaze penetrates her in a strangely fluid - David is not forcing the contact and he is not doing resistance. The notes
push hands in his pockets, though - shift weight from foot to foot.
"Yes, I saw the tow truck," finally comes to his voice - yet. "So I thought I'd come to see if everything was OK. Or if you needed something, well ..."
"I rented a car from Kenney, fortunately, is also open at night."
"Kenney? What other side of town?"
"I'll call a taxi."
Silence.
"If you want I can take you I would not be a problem," Keith ventured, moving unconsciously stepped back. Clearing his voice. "So I was going home, it would be a way ..." And David
inhale slowly. Inhale and feel the air going into the chest, penetrating into the lungs. Fill them.
"Shit," is repeated again. And then again, automatically: "Shit. Shit."
Why is not the evening suits, that - because he is not sure she could do it.
Why the fucking kid you colonize the brain for months and that gave you the sack as soon as you tried to kiss it can not slip back into your life as well, with an offer like that.
offer made by that candor, then, as if it were unthinkable load of other meanings - Completely out of place. Or as if the brain was fuck her favorite pastime. As if born for that.
Shit.
For a moment it is just about to ask him if he realizes - send him to hell or laughing in his face. Discovered in the first dark corner and put an end once and for all.
Chapter closed.
"All right. Thank you," replied the other hand, and evidently thinks there is something wrong. Something serious.
has this strange talent, Keith set off bombs at strategic points in your life unaware that as a child playing with fire. When it explodes some scares him, but instead you jump in the air. There is no way to avoid it.
And David estimates that are at least twenty years that is not sitting in the car on the passenger side with someone else driving. That are at least twenty years that happens to avoid deliberately look for something that resembles a embarrassment at an alarming rate, especially that are nearly twenty-five years does not feel that fear him inconceivable to kiss someone.
He must be the night of the revival, that one.
Or something in the universe must have subverted every logical law - the simultaneous explosion of all bombs Keith, perhaps. Perhaps only the image of his fist on the gear lever to decide the rhythm of the engine. Decide every thrust.
looks away quickly, wetting his lips.
"You think it might rain, tomorrow? "he murmurs, and immediately began mechanically to count how long since he happens to ask a question just as useless. The same idiot.
The other seems to take the issue seriously enough to stick his head toward the window, though. And respond with the utmost seriousness, "Perhaps there is some clouds ... in fact ..."
Wisely, he decides to drop the subject.
Keith has lived a rather small car - covered with cloth seats and a car crumpled more in tape embedded in the dashboard.
The most urgent goal of David at the moment is to persuade himself that the sense of constant discomfort comes from there: disabitudine by certain things in certain scenes. It fell from the absurdity of his image in such a context - he who only a few minutes before he sat on the sidewalk as a little boy any. Or like a beggar.
Perhaps you should seek a more convincing theory - assume.
not, you let it slide on the seat.
"Put the arrow. Turn right," he announces.
Amazed, the other's glances. "Right?"
"is not often in this neighborhood, I bet."
"Not often, no."
"I grew up there," he confesses. And the heart is blocked, the next moment, because he had not planned to say nothing of the sort. Why not make sense to say something about it at that kid and he has also always had to face serious difficulties with anyone who places of his childhood. Remember where you do not like - no one has ever done even with Samuel. Not even himself.
"Yes?" You were born here? " question, however, Keith and ensure that it becomes impossible to answer without running the risk of worsening the situation further. Without that silence becomes more eloquent than any word and a boy whatever may be said to have seen David Hamilton in distress.
"In one of the houses near the forest, to be exact," then said, hurrying to try cigarettes. "Then it was almost the whole campaign here. "
Silence.
" You can almost say that I have come to the world in a kind of stable. Like God, this? "
" An illustrious precedent ... "
" Yeah. "And suddenly
almost bursts out laughing, David. So, no reason.
" had thirty goats, my, and forty rabbits. I seem to recall even a milk cow for a certain period. Oh, and of course the chickens. I convinced my friend that one of them was the golden eggs every morning so that he could make the collection for me. "
" I had a vocation as a lawyer of the peasant, so ... "
" I leave it to you. My friend still believes now, that shit ... "
" It's still collecting the eggs? "
" Not exactly. "A smile." With age, has gotten worse, "he chuckles, and the nerves relax gradually. While the fatigue comes back to bite, and her eyes burned, and relaxes her head back against the seat of the car.
Slowly.
"In fact, everything happened so quickly that I did not have nearly the time of realize, and I fear many are still outstanding questions, "he murmurs." Important questions, you know? "
" With your friend? "
" Mh? Ah, no. No. "Another laugh." He is too linear in his madness. I'm talking about matters more complicated, more insidious. Perhaps the perspective of someone used to looking at the world from galaxies could untie the knot, who knows ... "he says.
And when Keith blushed slightly, asking:" What is it? ", The words come out almost alone, without he can intervene in any way to silence them. Or they would be safe.
It is even scary, if only we think.
If the mind is only local and wonders why it is doing - because that night, and why with that kid. Because in that way - as a call for help. An act of weakness.
"Shit," is repeated.
He continues ripeterselo even as a light cigarette, while lowering the window. As he speaks, exhaling smoke.
"Imagine yourself in twenty years," he murmured, looking straight ahead of him. "Imagine having spent his entire life ... I know. Physics? Imagine Enrico Fermi. And you are holding the secret of nuclear fission - the discovery of the century. Success and fame and immortality. It is a fundamental step to the evolution of science - the science you gave all of yourself. Do you follow me? " application.
"More or less ... I think so."
"Well," he says. "Now imagine that you know well the devastating impact that could have an atomic bomb - you are nothing meno che Fermi, del resto. Se non li conosci tu… E immagina di sapere anche che gli scienziati di Hitler stanno lavorando alla stessa ricerca, e che se anche tu riuscissi a tenere segrete le tue scoperte otterresti solo che qualcun altro giunga ai tuoi stessi risultati al posto tuo, magari… Senza che questo serva comunque a salvare una sola vita."
Keith gli lancia uno sguardo.
"Cioè, la mia scoperta sarebbe la bomba atomica? E io, sapendolo, dovrei decidere se andare avanti o lasciare che lo facciano i miei nemici?"
"Qualcosa del genere, sì," sbuffa David.
E pensa che a questo punto dovrebbe forse attendere una risposta - contare meccanicamente gli istanti di silenzio e lasciare ai pensieri the boy's time to articulate. Leave in the hands of their lives, all the past years. The years to come.
"It was an example of the shit," exclaims the other hand, because there must be a limit to the surreal. There must be something left to save from the catastrophe of that night - something of himself. A body that you can find in the morning, in the clothes she wears.
"Do not mind, I do not know that I take" short cuts, pointing out. "You can pull over here, we have arrived." And Megan
review of the road in the dark when it sticks to open the door. Revises April eyelashes resting on her cheek, her teddy bear. Feel the cigar out of his stepfather, in the air.
Needs whiskey.
It needs to come to feel the wind in your hair - close the fists on the rim of a wheel and tearing it from the lips of that boy, the force is lacking.
take back the kiss.
Instead it is the burning desire to caress your hands - the lightness. The temptation to push the mouth on the neck and really listen to his voice, the answer can not afford to hear. The end of everything. He has a fear
fucking might as well admit it.
Perhaps because it blocks the movement, now - so slowly turns and looks straight at me Keith. Black in black, with firmness.
As it always has.
"As regards the other night," begins, tightening close the door handle. "I do not think I have you still said I was sorry. I'm sorry I picked the wrong time, I mean, because at this point it is clear that I should wait."
Silence.
"Up until now," he adds, and the boy looks away as if you had touched a nerve. As if that statement had suddenly opened the door to a forbidden room. Dangerous territory.
But there seems no limit tonight, David - especially now that he saw his real face. Now that honesty has become a choice rather than an accident, and perhaps for the first time in years the possibility of discovering truly has become a almost physical need. Want to be known and to know and stay away from any form. Any
defense.
"Look at me," and then scans in a low voice, after watching him a long time.
and would prefer that he did not find the courage to obey him, in fact - that unwittingly dragged him away from the brink there closing it once and for all, that madness.
Yet when Keith looked up only to stop him over his shoulder is found to order them again, even more firmly: "Look at me."
and finds himself waiting for his eyes with a very clear awareness that this moment will remain etched forever in his life, however, is completed. That horizons will be different in each case - in any case terrible. And for once can concederselo too, to be afraid.
Taste the taste on your tongue and feel the emptiness in my stomach down. Feel it grow.
It is as if your feet slide down into nothing, when his eyes finally meet.
"Okay," she whispered - his voice just a little 'hoarse. A strange tone, not his.
Thins eyelids.
"What's wrong?"
Silence.
"Everything, in practice," then the boy answered, laughing nervously. "Why do not you do not want, is that ... is that they are capable."
takes a deep breath after. Search continue.
"Vivian has no problem living things as they come," makes clear. "I did. And I could not even get started, one night with you. Even leaving aside the next morning."
"Yeah. The next morning a lot of worries me too ..." he smiles, but no trace of irony in his voice and the other seems to have decided to continue his speech to the end.
"probably quite rightly, the other night," he continues, moving back to gaze out the window. "When you said you are not the type. ... Why are not the type, in fact." A sigh. "I'm not the type that can be driven by the attraction and that's it, that you let go. Or that living things instinctively, lightly. "
" lightly, "he repeats. Keith blushes.
" Yes. That is, "resumed." Vivian know he was a child - I know how to address certain things. How did you meet, I mean. I've never been able to. And I'm not saying that promises of fidelity or more before ... I mean, even that would not make sense. But ... David, the first time you bring it to you in bed did not even know his name. And if you've found it was just a month after the event, Vivian and I'm not, anyway. "Pause." There was not even that speech, "says the boy.
But David did not already listen more, lost in wonder at look into his eyes and wonder how it is possible that rationality plays a role as primary in the behavior patterns of a boy. If it is just a defensive strategy particularly well or if you lack any real attention to the base instead. If another would be different.
straightening his back, nods slowly.
not lucid enough to give accurate answers now - and yet can not ignore the fact that she feels empty. Exhausted.
And that has opened a wound, in a very deep part of himself. Keith who has been digging. That he allowed him to do so.
"Okay," he concludes. He wants to hurt him.
He wants to hurt him and gently kissed her forehead, in the meantime. Make him well.
clutching the fingers on his temple, pushing the hair away from her face.
"City of shit," he murmurs, because someone has to be blamed if that kid was able to massacre them a second time. It would be enough to distribute the nightlife in an area just a little 'wider - extending the boundaries of the district. And here we return to the question of the parks. Dell'Amenano
pond ... He shakes his head, opening the door.
"Can you go back to the center, from here?" Keith asks, then adds, laughing - even without waiting for the answer: "Yes. There is no danger that someone might get lost in Rosenfield, I bet ..."
And for a moment it seems the contact point is very close, actually - the boy smiles would really like any other his age: in a somewhat 'curious and a bit' nervous. Sincere.
"Yes, I would do it without problems ..." he says, with that tone of voice that only children are able to modulate. That forces you to forgive them anything. I just wanted to.
But David does not want to watch tonight - do not want to see anything.
not want to hear.
"With the transition, Keith," scans, and already the night air sharpens the eye and the perception of the earth under your feet makes it more solid balance. While the flame of the lighter lights up his hands, with its light hot. The shape of the fingers.
"Oh, here ..." he chuckles, before leaning into the passenger compartment. "It seems that I know your name, He must be what brings bad luck ..." Yet
extends his arm, after, and without another word the knuckles rubbing his cheek with a delicacy that do not even think of owning. That destabilizes him first.
Then he pulls back. He slams the door.
and faceless - inhaling the smoke - walks away.
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