Clinical depression and whiskey in the sclera.
After much indecision, I finally took a stand on this: publish the story in episodes that I'm writing on this blog, among other headings, and several short articles.
Now, I'm putting on this tell us quite a bit 'me, then I would be grateful if you did or commentaste critics want positive, negative want to grow and evolve to make history and maybe some fun' of more. We accept suggestions, but know that for my character (and I say this joking and exaggerating the other items) do not always agree.
Well ... Thank you and if you want to do me a pleasure to read. Probably will post once a week, but I can also be quite a bit 'slower.
Hello and good reading.
Jack Pendra.
I felt like being inside a painting by Modigliani.
Everything was so slow as to exasperate my poor senses confused. At least, those who still thought to possess. Touch, taste and smell were gone ... maybe
Step by step, a slow step after another began to move even slower when I lifted the bench of the metro where I had spent the night. That bloody night. I did not move much though.
An automaton in overdose would have been more agile than me.
heard every sound and noise through a fucking mattress stuffed with foam rubber and the images that I felt, confused, tall and dark, made me come to an almost unbearable nausea. Not to mention the hangover from the acidity. I sat down again.
People ran slow, but that was my point of view. I knew, I was aware that sitting on a bench in the subway I saw things were not slow, but hectic. So it looks like a convention of frenetic samba dancers in epileptic crisis.
I raised my head, cursing softly, with his tongue and plush breath that almost made me faint. Damn cheap rum.
I got up standing stretches, the mournful creak of the leather of my jacket as a soundtrack. Yawning at the time I asked a guard who do not know why, said first (half-past nine, fuck, how much I slept?), And then in a voice far away, I asked for the documents. I gave them to him. Examined them.
- Mr Pendra, go home and maybe take a shower and brush your teeth with a little 'of turpentine. It stinks that even a gathering of street cleaners come out of a giant ass.
- Hey! I steal jokes! - I said I do not know in what language.
I recovered the documents, s alutai with a belch and walked away toward the exit without forgetting to take my trusty knapsack, which contained the remaining rum.
I climbed the stairs of the subway and I combed with a handful.
The sun burned my poor eyes drinker nostalgic, then rummaged in the pocket of my coat and sunglasses raccattai found once as a not-so-not-know-where. I was beginning to think that the jacket was not even mine.
Inforcai glasses and someone pressed play, because like in a movie, everything began to flow with the normal speed fucking ever.
I opened the backpack while you're still in the middle of the entrance to the underpass between the blasphemies of those who almost literally stepping over me to pass.
Acciuffai bag of tobacco, took a map and I fabricated a cigarette stortissima, with the aftermath of a pretty tough drunk and still in progress.
zippo took off the jeans and breathed eagerly turning the straw in deciding to initiate home.
As I walked the 200 yards that separated me from the hole where I lived, I got up the collar of his jacket to protect me from the chill wind of that gloomy morning in January. I stopped, opened the backpack in the middle of the sidewalk and pulled out the bottle, svitai the cap and gave a refreshing long drink. The cold disappeared almost completely screwed while alcohol and with a shiver of pleasure storing the rum.
front of the front door I took the keys from his pocket, who immediately fell to the ground. Bending down to pick them up, the window of Mrs. Foster flew open, showing the face of an old woman who certainly had the past millennium. Surrounded by lace curtains so gaudy that she liked, with her dress looked like a Cinderella Betty Boop porn rotten. I looked in his face while remaining in that position from lumbago.
- He was partying again tonight eh, Mr. Pendra?
What balls. Let's see if s'incazza.
- Yes, sir. And then I went to hookers.
think so, I look angry and looks like a bulldog with a red pepper in the ass.
- Mr Pendra, okay who can do what he wants but last night made so much noise that I was going to call the police! Before she arrived, this area was very quiet!
- he not idea what time it was when I left home?
- Yes! She was released at ten-thirty in the evening!
With the calm of a monk, while he took the keys from the sidewalk, said.
- By law, Mrs. Foster, I can make "noise", as you say, f ino at eleven-thirty. Then he cocks his face and good will. The rent I pay, I pay the bills so I do not shred balls.
now the steam coming out of the nose. I got up just in time for me to shake the hair from the blast from the window Close help forcefully slamming the caryatid. With a shrug I turned towards the door.
The first step across the threshold carried me into the cold gloom of the old building.
that lift antediluvian bastard was dead again, so I had to get me six flights of stairs.
front of the door I noticed that the cigarette I had done at the station had gone out for a long time and I was given a breath when I had just turned on.
I opened the door and leaned his knapsack on the ground, whereas I would be served later at work, and hung his jacket on a nail protruding from the wall to my right.
I casually sniffed armpit and repressed a retching. The guard was right, so I did not dare test it again because at least one breath to my crappy little Pellacchia I wanted. I threw the glasses on the backpack.
I reached the bathroom that is yes and no 12 cm from the entrance and I took off my shoes on the fly, pulling them around the bedroom to the left, opposite the bathroom which doubled as a kitchen, living room and guest room. It was just a hole.
arrived undressed naked to the bathroom and threw the clothes in the washing machine, remembering to pull out of the expensive jeans zippo. The black sweatshirt, black as everything I wore, who resisted entering.
I found a packet of lucky strike on the window sill and chiusala, I sat down on a heated bowl, tossing his cigarette "craft" that I had not smoked and do not know why I kept still in his hand.
Sitting there, I thought I had just spent the night outside. Nothing, no memory. Only Rachel, a pretty good red that I knew the night before, telling me to take the bottle, jacket, and go for a walk outside. Then the dark and waking up to the metro station with the feeling of living in a broken VCR.
I pulled the chain and I got the flush. I went and looked in the mirror that ass face appeared before me. I could not remember so ugly ... Not that I was beautiful, but a little dignity teniamocela, no? Despite
I remember (or I do not remember ... mah!) to have spent only one night out and I had confirmed the vetches hia whore on the ground floor, my beard was as long as they were over quattro.Gli eyes that I remembered green with white conjunctiva, were now streaked with reddish veins and I did not remember to have dark circles so deep on a big face strangely pale. Her hair was in place. I grabbed a disposable razor, shaving foam and let radendomi snouts an attractive goatee that I almost kissed her alone.
I took a shower and washed my teeth chewing on the toothbrush and with a smile I examined the dentures. Maybe not washed the oven of this ugly face, but the halo of red enamel macinacibo I had not even noticed. Rimasticai toothbrush and putting it in place I went to the bedroom.
I found a pair of pants in the drawer beside the bed and put on a cotton shirt, combining it all with a pair of moccasins that I hated and I sprinkled aftershave.
I checked the clock on the wall: ten. I was a thunderbolt to Vevo another hour to reach the office.
It was then that I heard for the first time: a breath of light, a fleeting breath, but very close ...
Convinced that there was someone, I turned to snap but I was surprised when I found no one. Yet it still felt more and more close and heavy on my neck.
disappeared into thin air as he had appeared.
I am neither religious nor superstitious, but I was literally shitting on him. The fear of becoming schizoid suddenly made its way into my every molecule.
I NEED Calm! Raccattai backpack, ncurante the glasses, which fortunately is not broke, nearly tore the zipper and pull out even before the bottle was already loosening.
I took a long drink. Better.
Only then I realized that I had not drunk the night: the level of liquor this morning was the same as when I left home last night with Rachel, and I only drank this morning when you wake up, not to mention the soothing sip. I rubbed
I closed my eyes and keep them rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger of his left hand, resting his right hand holding the bottle against the wall. After a moment of reflection and some deep breathing risollevai eyelids and the images became oblong, blurry, almost impalpable.
Strange, I thought it was just a question of when I awoke in the morning, due to the hangover, but now I was sober ... Or at least, not drunk at all.
decided to ignore it for now, given all that lasted a few seconds, even though I felt quite upset. DEVIL! I imagined sighs, eyes, teeth and skin different from the usual stuff, and this video fails ... DICK! I'm stoned, I thought. ENOUGH! I shouted angrily to free myself from that feeling of helplessness that crawled down my back, I screamed so much that I ache and burn the throat and cough to expel the tonsils.
took the keys of race, dropped the bottle, grabbed her coat and hurled me down the stairwell. Courses strong enough to feel alone when I arrived at the main entrance door slamming.
forgot home the zippo and cigarettes, so I decided to buy all along.
Unfortunately I saw the tobacconist had no wallet, and do not remember where I left off. At home I had not seen.
Even in bad luck, however, someone smiles at you: Katy, committed to blonde tobacco, made me believe, and so I could satisfy my hunger for nicotine. Katy
greeted with a fast pace and rounded the corner to go to work and stay safe in that fucking office, which is almost a kilometer.
As in a nightmare, time suddenly slowed down and the sun grew more intense, enveloping b ruciante in his crown of rays. I regretted not taking my loyal sunglasses. Again, everything was blurred, receding, people who cross walked and acted too slowly to belong to the actual size.
My gestures, however, I looked normal. With the usual speed of a normal person, v oglio say. Something changed in me, no one was watching me. Until recently, without exception, people accompanying the looks disgusted with my presence. Now I did not exist.
I tried to sing along to distract me, but my voice sounded strange even to myself, as unnatural, and I had again the feeling of cock-of-those-sounds-muffled around this cock-of-place infested with humans.
Why are you talking?! Every word had a tone so low rumble in the ground. Ok, calm. Espirai and inhaled deeply. I felt like a hummingbird trapped in a narcoleptic group of snails.
I tried to remember: ok, it had never happened until this morning.
Determined to find Rachel: the only one who could tell me what the hell was happened on the night, and fuck the fucking work.
So, where I met her? Ah, yes, the resale of liquor: came e. .. Nothing, nada, more dark. Pause in the memories and then to my house who said he quit. And I like a horny bitch do the right, following the bloody pea is never about his business.
Slowly people began to move normally, the sounds were real, the sun declined and people began to avoid me again.
bastard I reached the store in 5 minutes, running like a cocaine addict and making me blow up a lung and a half. I threw open the door, cursing, remembering that he had left my backpack at home keeper.
Simon, the clerk, immediately recognized me and came towards me, hand held and shaky belly as if to implement a terrorist attack against me. Worse than throwing up, then ignored the greeting.
- Hello Jack! I give the usual bottle of vodka or prefer the Jameson today?
-Vodka! That is, I mean ... Even vodka, but I need a fucking information fucking.
- Shoot! But the information is 10 more, you know.
Shit.
- I know, I know, louse of shit! For your bad luck but I lost my wallet somewhere, and you must credit me.
- Quiet, is here. You left the shop when you have stolen the red.
- There is something still in there? Do not be fooled you all, I hope.
He looked at me like I petato nose.
- For whom do you take me?
I threw my belongings and seized them at the groin, sending preached in my hypothetical future children. I checked his wallet while Simon looked at me, disappointed I did not trust him. There was everything, and even more than he remembered. In fact I found a note in 20 more, and a business card is completely black, with the lower right corner in red.
I took it between thumb and forefinger on the lower left, I turned and rivoltai but I did not find any writing. I showed it to the Simon Party with the red corner and asked with a chuckle:
- And what the hell is this?
Simon stopped, opened his eyes and turned pale as death. Terrified pointed a chubby finger at me and took two steps back unsteadily. His lips moved, but not from his mouth no sound came out. He trembled to the core.
I turned to see if someone behind me could be entered and pointed a weapon to have committed, but the store was completely empty except for us two.
Simon meanwhile ran behind the counter, glancing toward me, lowering and still kept the ticket in hand and confused.
- Mr Pendra!
was the voice of a man who is shitting on me from fear.
- Mr Pendra! Take what she needs, whatever they want, but do not come here anymore!
- Come on Simon, I've always called by his name and fuckin. What's wrong now? With calm
do I put the ticket in your wallet and the latter in his pocket, thought it was one of the usual stupid jokes idiot. But it was a joke, as I realized that the smell was coming from behind the counter.
- Christ, Simon! Did you shit on me! What is it?! You tell me?
Simon did not answer, and took his gun which he kept hidden under the counter, pointing it. She was trembling yet, and yet still stink. I raised my hands. Yells.
- Have a moron! Do not bullshit! I know too many years! What you got?
With a trembling voice, barely a hoarse whisper, he repeated what he had asked me just before:
-Take what you need is to go away!
The fear was turning into despair. That is my own.
- Ok! Ok! - I yelled pissed. He began to realize that not only he had a fucking scared.
stretched out my hand to grab a bottle of Jack Daniel's, Jameson and then yet another one of Jack's. I was going to turn around toward the exit, the nvece I turned again to scoglionata a fucking joke, just to loosen tension. A cazzatina, just one: - The service here sucks! - When that jerk pulled the trigger.
happened too many things at once, in one instant.
I again that strange sigh on my neck as I lowered the shutter dropped the bottles to avoid the blow. With your arms to cover her head, closed my eyes.
passed (I think ..) about thirty seconds before I had to have the courage to open them again. At that moment, I realized I do not be mad it would have been too much even for a sick mind what I saw.
The bottles had not fallen, as had been stuck in the air by a goblin spaccacazzo. Someone had trodden break again. Or maybe it was sleep.
I got scared and looked around, in an atmosphere that was beginning to feel mine. The bottles did not fall.
Simon's face was turned to one side, eyes closed and mouth open in a grimace of pure black fifa. Like a scene from a bad movie, remained still while the gun erupted sparava.I sparks and hot properties.
Now what the hell was I to do? The only color other than gray usually saw was the red sparks, deadly conflicts with everything else, crippled in his unnatural height. No noise.
again. It happened again!
slowly approached the counter, I noticed that the shot was just out from the mouth of the fire-breathing. As if in a trance, I tried to catch a ball that stuff directly to me, and drew his hand almost instantly, accompanying the movement with a scream. That son of a bitch was hot as hell! I yelled back:
- DICK! DICK! DICK!
While the room was screaming and the floor rumbled. He could be an earthquake, everything was still ...
Suddenly I understood. The voice was different from that used normally, but it was mine. Was my cry resound in all the surrounding surfaces.
I was me.
