was still there, dying. Tied to the pole. Agonizing as Apollo Creed. Standing or nearly so, with her buttocks pressed against the table advertising. It 's my bike. Chin down and your ass dried up. It looks like a pornodiva taking it from behind by an hour and can no longer moan.
And there it is. She looks at me as we look at who does not respect the queue at the supermarket. Or maybe like one, taken from behind, can no longer distinguish pain from pleasure. He asks me why I left without saying goodbye. I do not answer. With claims to me pleadingly waited an entire summer. Right there, tied to the pole green. But I do not believe you. In fact I take breath to reply. The accused sarcastically that he would court the first nice ass that was passed there. But I realize that I have gossip. In the head still the same damn sentence. Unconsciously echoes. The one that says: I like the good firm asses, like that of your friend. Ah! And again I am reminded of that phrase. She remains incredulos, looks down. Rispondere.Ancora not know that a scene of jealousy. We are the usual. I realize I am being too hard and then changed his tone. I am calm and I apologize. Return to me. Recapture the suitcase and take the first step toward the front door. Roncato lily-ball runs on the asphalt and the noise is the type of film that runs a finished film. I understand that I am going to leave everything on that palo.Verdognolo. And while I expect you to resume, stop, or at least tell me something, I accelerate and I approach the entrance of the building. I quit the bunch of keys from his jeans pocket and, without even time to repent, find the key I wanted, I put in the lock. Behind me, the silence is deafening.
are still three days and the silence is still there, next to my bike. Goodbye love hello.
