Chimicassassina .
1. We make war?
How do I tell him? How do I?
She is already on. Very. Too much because I can tell you a thing now. I shall of itself as a tramp who has just found a bottle full of grappa in a garbage can, and does not want some of your colleagues carried it off. Grips my right side with his left hand, sinking her nails red-glazed and well cared-in living flesh.
How do I say that is a matter of chemistry?
His right hand meanwhile investigates stealth inside my shirt, exploring how a ship equipped with sonar to map the sea bottom. I leave scratches on his chest, occasionally, so, just for good measure.
He stands on tiptoe to kiss his neck, clutching me with her legs long and slender, I bite his ear. I feel a fire within each movement and a violent storm in the lower abdomen. As a firebrand she burns with every touch, her cheeks are red - I see them as spoiled and bad eyes - as well as his belly 'Mediterranean', so soft now that he is let go, which is warmer, and the rose tattoo near your navel becomes more of a red lit. Certainly does not want to kiss me good night.
Criminology, is understood to be investigating, rounding up every inch of my body. His tongue is in charge of my mouth, without any mercy puts it upside down looking for evidence, evidence of my perdition.
How - do - now - to - say - that - no - I can?
And that is a matter of chemistry? ...
I see all this from above, over our bodies tangled. The animal part of me goes on without hesitation, without being too young psychologist of the counterattack. The rational part of my body turns away to analyze the situation, which can surrender at any moment. I see a cold sweat. Not too sure of my actions and very clumsy. Small droplets condense on the surface of my nose, then collect falling on the tip with a 'Plick' right in the neckline of her. Difficult now to convince that being down there thinking that asking for an interview, but it's time to close. There are times in life when you have to take the tough decisions in a very short moments. As in those critical situations where you are in danger of dying. 'Forces of despair' call. What I'm thinking, thinking being that the top is thinking, it is much more than a hypothesis or a probability. And 'what is irretrievably to happen unless you take the situation under control quickly.
"You have to get an idea come to salvage. It's better not to make the figure of the cock. Shoot the first plausible bullshit that goes through your head and then scoured home. Hurry up, damn it! "
was my conscience, the entity that took care of me, talking to me now. Certain hormones, I would keep the nose for weeks, obviously, but 'risk' in that situation was a misnomer, because it was completely impossible that the event would evolve in a positive way prejudice there. I would, indeed, should have known right away, a few minutes before, when we had stopped in his house to greet us, and suddenly I felt strange, as if I had a lightning struck from the inside. But I had resisted the charm of this bastard pin-up capable of producing very thoughts made sense. Perceptive, talkative, and with a seating multilingual. Despite my pacifism convinced, I could not not take up arms to launch a challenge: "We make war." And now, despite myself, I was forced to make a strategic retreat paradoxically.
I tore a decision by the suction of his lips and with a certain apprehension I was told: "Opporcodiungiorgedabliubusc! Jaco! My dog! I left him home alone and without anything to eat. Go crazy if I do not go to him at once and carry it out. E 'locked up at home for several hours, poor fellow. What a bastard I am. Excuse me darling, maybe I do in a hurry and get back to you in a flash. Also if you do not mind ... "
" Of course I'm sorry! "I growled her shocked and withdrawing the hand that had just crept into my pants. He looked at me stunned for a few seconds, his mouth open in an expression strongly opposed. Then a smile appeared on her lips sweet, ironic, evil and resigned, saying that all that now I had magnetized her and could not do without me that night.
"If you do not return within half an hour, I'll kill you." I said, crossing his arms and holding the shoulders back slightly, but still with that sexy grin and criminal. "Sure," I replied, while another flash blinds my view, anything goes in war, after all "and made her a wink (or maybe both eyes closed, I would love to be able to use the English word to blink ).
As soon as she pulled herself together, combed her hair and giving himself a gathering that had taken off his shoes and walked toward the front door, I will not hesitate to run like a maniac to my car, parked in the second row. At that time - and in that neighborhood, I thought - no fine, fortunately. It was full of children that neighborhood, and people still on the streets to enjoy even a bit 'to cool before losing to another hot and sleepless night in mid July. There I noticed as I turned the key in the framework and sets in motion. Under normal circumstances, I would not have given more than 35 seconds old. As in the cartoons Ken , who confided to his enemies the remaining seconds of life before their bodies explode into a smoothie bowel under the blows of his fists Hokuto '100 '. I never thought of cartoons of my childhood.
Listening: Nightclubbing - Iggy Pop
2. Histrionic gesture.
"I just hope I do not run into a shootout," I thought, absurdly, with a candid smile and idiot turned the rearview mirror. In the area of \u200b\u200bBari, robberies and settling of accounts were no longer just a cliché or a sad reminder of the past. The violence had exploded once again for a short time and with unprecedented ferocity. They had already paid the cost affiliated with various clans that were fighting the various criminals trafficking in different districts of the city, and some - but by now-too many innocent citizens who had only the fault (bad luck?) to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. At that moment I thought that 'being in the wrong place at the wrong time' was always one of my prerogative.
Think waterfall.
While this has always been my prerogative. I sometimes have the impression of a blind draw in the deck of thoughts crowding my head every moment. Every detail of external causes me bunches feelings and thoughts, which usually have the character to create a network of associations between perceptions and flash memories or facts. "But think about driving, you idiot!" Said a voice suddenly without sound. I had to exit quickly from that neighborhood and I would gladly hit the car with those 'Gremlins' disguised as children playing with a soccer ball 'to the German', then downloading violent ball against the gate of a garage.
arrogant, conceited. Most of them had a relative as a model drug dealer or 'mouse' (pickpocket thief-mugger-flat). Unconscious and helpless children of the vicious cycle of poverty / ignorance / unemployment / wrong policy planning and allocation of housing. I worked on a multi-disciplinary study on a ghetto neighborhood on the outskirts, where a new left-wing administration was interested in his urban redevelopment (especially social), so I knew very well all those dynamics. But sometimes it was better to have a healthy fear of these creatures, which have grown as mavericks, they did not have any regard to the results of violence, and about respect for others. I knew, in a sense, to have their respect, because I was in their territory and that I wanted to free my car it came out (I add also that I was dying to engage in a fight with kids ten years ... regardless of the situation in terms). So I mentioned only a slight sense of disapproval by folding upwards the right corner of the mouth when one of them pulled me - on purpose (that angel ...) - a ball against the side. I began to count to ten slowly and listening to me breathe in and out. Scoured out again. In my mind Ken Shiro began to impose a series of punches to the body spinning those obnoxious pests that one by one they took his head in his hands, and this was beginning to swell and deform up to explode spreading everywhere shreds of its bloody content . It would be nice to have Ken as a bodyguard, mad, as I disentangle the meaning of the quarter forced Madonnella. I had little way to go to reach my house, but only by reasoning as the crow flies. I continued my sweats and cold chills down my spine, anticipating doomsday scenarios. A tamarro in a yellow Mini Cooper S annoyance proceeded at a crawl and snaking between the two lanes. Too stoned I do not know what combination lysergic acid and the remix of Gigi D'Agostino, who sported in the car, a volume to be stopped immediately. I tried to overtake from the left, then right, but nothing. I looked in the mirror wet and green as the Hulk. 1 .. 2 .. 3 .. 4 .. I'm exploding. I fucked up. The interlayer in Bari the traffic light: I started with trumpet horn. The type did not seem to notice at all. At that point he was able to join him and asked me to go to space. He looked at me hard and slow with his piggy eyes, almost a disgrace to God's superiority, pretended to hold me then I let go, as if to say "I'll grant you, plebeian."
I let myself take pride and rifilai a nice middle finger to the mirror.
not do it.
The forced you angry, starting in pursuit. He had to make me pay, that was an affront that does not let go so. And I could not afford such a mistake in that moment of levity. It seemed that in one way or another that evening, death would come to reclaim my soul. The type I was at their heels and head out the window, I screamed a little veiled death threats. Many words in the dialect not understood, so he spoke fast. At another time I would have enjoyed even in trying to test driving a car, chased by a madman through the streets of the city, but I had other thoughts on his mind. I was almost at home, fuck, now I passed the dashing and strangely ignoring the red light still on at that hour. I fed away from the intersection with Via Amendola Capruzzi.
Wrong. Fortunately, only two girls went on a scooter and I just cursed the dead. I wanted to sow it, but my Alfa Sud was not anything against his fucking Mini S. I had to use your head. We are on the main road now and I wonder why they are so fool by bringing him out of town. Actually I knew that, now on the run, I could combine business with pleasure ... The beast up beside me shouting, "You're a piece of shit, stop that I'll break your ass."
than I wanted to stop me, because I wanted to stop first, and get him to shut the mouth of a sewer. I could not shit, I could not. I put the arrow to go out of Sammichele, then suddenly came from the deceleration lane, but the bastard did not bait the trap. I risorpassò and skidded a bit, 'as to send me off the road. He must have had the advantage of the engine, but he did not know who had to do ...
Listening: Travelling Without Moving - Jamiroquai
3. 'The Peacemaker'.
'The Peacemaker'. It 's so I called a boy, and this epithet was certainly not the positive value you can imagine. Nothing to do with 'the pacifier' ... but to understand it must have seen the film 'The Peacemaker' with George Clooney and Nicole Kidman. In a scene high in special effects, the grizzled most famous film spectacular developments throttled with a Mercedes SL during a mad chase with some dangerous spies, and squeezes a bag of your custom-sheets, but saved our butts. It was soon after the release of the movie and the vision of those sequences that my closest friends began to call me that. To be precise, it was immediately after I had used in a series of maneuvers to immediate withdrawal of the license, one night I had too much alcohol. That time I even got on the sidewalk with my Fiat Panda to shit in a stupid fear that had been preferred to me from the idiot of the most beautiful country. When this had ended his grueling flight on foot to stop terror with a corner, I was broken and scoured leaving smoke behind me, shreds of tire and laughter of his fellow ape revelry. My partners car was petrified and remained silent for ten seconds, then began to laugh without stopping, to shout and make noise like dogs hysterical. From that evening, and for several years, I was 'The Peacemaker'.
All of us in the group we have always had a passion for driving. This has led us, in the early years from novice to do a lot of shit behind the wheel of the cars our parents, seriously endangering the lives our young people are thirsting for excitement.
I was thinking about that time that I arrived a few inches from plunging over a cliff, I realized that I had to invent something in a hurry to get me out of this absurd situation. I glanced at the brake lever of understanding in hand, eyes narrowed into slits that sparkled with excitement. I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins like a river and a heat unclean weighed me down eyelids, which were occasionally shaken by nervous tremors. I had done so many times to play with friends in the parking lot of the Stadium (and once I even had to pay to my father the gems of the rear lights that I had destroyed), but now that this maneuver could save my life or choke it off in a bloody manner did not make me laugh so much. I had to concentrate and try to reduce some 'speed because otherwise I would have flipped for sure. I tried to understand its trajectory by looking at the round headlights in the rearview mirror. I began to reduce the pressure on the gas pedal and move in the fast lane, almost having to get him to pass from the right side. Hurt my forearms as the firm was taken the steering wheel and the sweat made my solidarity to the seat back. The chicken took the bait and was about to close, when I moved back up slightly to the right and pulled the lever, with the same care taken when handling the detonator of a bomb. It was just amazing. I ran the whole scene in front of the viewer as if I were an action movie. I felt like Duke, and Moe, or as Michael Knight in Knight Rider ... why not a little 'McGyver! My Alfa green bottle perfectly turned 180 degrees, in the best performance by a professional stuntman. ...
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