Here we are ... we'll post a new story, just yogurt, the contest is over and so now the building has decided to return to his streak of creative freedom ... I hope you like.
Sandy Run at home waiting for you.
"The only frontier that remains is the intangible world. Everything else is sewn too tight." Trapped by too many laws. Mother wanted for intangible Internet, movies, music, stories, art, rumor, computer programs, anything that is not real. The virtual reality. Simulations. Culture. The unreal is more powerful than reality. Because the truth never comes to the degree of perfection which the imagination can go. "(C. Pahalaniuk)
"Corri a casa, Sandy ti aspetta. Dai su, cerca di correre più veloce. "
Fissa il panorama che se ne và a 50Km/h, attraverso i vetri di quel sarcofago arancione, J. sguardo di plastica.
Poteva anche chiamarsi Debby o Angie, ma oggi no, oggi era sicuramente, senza nessun dubbio ed indecisione Sandy.
Sandy ha la carnagione rosea e liscia, come un maialino, ha degli occhi profondi e impenetrabili e le labbra rosse e carnose.
I suoi capelli sono color del fieno, sempre acconciati alla stessa maniera, sempre della stessa lunghezza, un rigoroso ordine che stona con il caos della sua stanza.
Non ha nessuna imperfezione, non parla mai a sproposito, non lo sveglia mentre dorme, non gli manda sms, né tanto meno compone il suo numero per telefonargli, né a casa, né in ufficio.
Niente.
Non prosciuga la sua Mastercard in shopping selvaggio, non gli chiede regali, non pretende che si ricordi la sua data di nascita, non lo rimprovera se passa con le scarpe infangate sul pavimento pulito.
Però….però quando la vuole...lei c'è.
A suo modo, bé, diciamolo pure... lui l'ama.
Lei rimane sempre estasiata vicino a J. ad ascoltare i suoi vaneggiamenti filosofici, senza interrompere o ribattere, pende dalle sue labbra e lui dipendo dalle sue.
E’ una strana storia questa, è la storia di J. e del suo amore per le donne.
La storia di J., l’uomo della fabbrica plastic, great man that could run with Ferrari, but it crowds in the subway at rush hour crowds, J. imposing on the size and pants pressed with the crease, J. with old shoes, J. shaving and can be spread layers of cream $ 100 a bottle every three hours in his toilet personnel manager, because it frightens the old and the crowd. Indirectly
is also the story of Sandy, her cold and hot passion.
Ricomponetevi and make yourself uncomfortable.
J. Today feels different than usual is very impatient and continues, as if he had a tic, to turn his eyes toward the clock, time never seems to enjoy the journey? Too long. Think about what the
he said, to how to choose the right time, because .... to him speak, no longer wants to keep that feeling inside ... I feel a strange anxiety to invade the stomach, flicker, may also appoint.
wringing her fingers pale and sweaty, feeling short supply oxygen, as if something prevented the vital gas to reach the alveoli and delicious, it is this feeling?
a stop, another, another, a countdown ....
He then had to do something special J., certainly can not be limited to a simple speech.
He feels the idea of \u200b\u200bthis new turn purple, has already cleared the saliva, hyoscyamine inconvenience, his eyes are shining with excitement, his heart pumps too much blood in too little time and encrusted pots are made from cholesterol in its fast food lunches, heart attack risk 70%.
"Breathe through your nose. Exhale through the mouth. Breathe through your nose. Exhale through your mouth. "
Try to calm down following the guidelines of the lessons to try yoga, which she had attended, but
its concentration is at the level of umbilical Sandy and this does not help him with the necessary rigor to make the exercises with each inhalation-exhalation flaps Sandy's entering into the nostrils.
Suddenly a little red fire flame is lit in him, not a burst of passion, but a sort of banal romance. Probably
excerpts of textures and comedies have penetrated so deeply his subconscious to make it almost certain this is his aspiration, now they are rebelling and emerge at the conscious state, are sculptors who shape the clay with gelatinous his actions.
So here he is, strutting and finally with a smile
"A bunch of red roses"
"How many you want, sir?"
reflects a bit ', has no idea how many roses should contain a bunch. Seeing
J. difficulties in the florist suggests a bunch of about a hundred roses for surely so. ... his wife would have appreciated.
J. and tawny bite his mind without the slightest doubt that this is an exaggeration, il denaro non è un problema ed in fondo…bé…non ha mai regalato nulla a Sandy.
Passa anche in gioielleria, perché ogni richiesta che si rispetti, necessita di essere suggellata da un brillante indorato e lascio a voi immaginare, visto cosa poco fa è accaduto dal fioraio, quello che può essere avvenuto dall’orefice.
In ogni caso riesce ad uscirne e finalmente é diretto da lei.
“Corri a casa, Sandy ti aspetta”.
Affretta il passo, ansima, si asciugando il sudore dalla madida fronte con il suo fazzoletto bianco iniziali a lato ricamate da sarte sapienti.
Era abbastanza goffo ed impacciato con quel grosso mazzo di rose in mano, il calore del sole le stava afflosciando un bit '.
the number of women that passes by Sandy envy, without knowing it, they think of how sweet man, with that huge bunch of roses, and imagine that their reaction would have to place some of her fortune ... they always say to others no? We
, is now before the door, put the keys in the lock and turn counterclockwise. The door opens.
"I'm back Sandy"
No answer, as usual.
Laying the keys on the mobile and decides, with a flair that does not belong at all to do something really special.
takes a series of candles from the cupboard, those of the Commons "if the case was a blackout," rooms upstairs and meticulously placed at several locations in the bedroom ... .. loving are switched on one by one, then down the shutters to create an intimate atmosphere ...?
Then back downstairs, take the rose dates back to the upper floors. Some extracts from the deck of the petals and sprinkle with black silk sheets, then lay some flowers here and there around the room, a bit 'as if they were candles, but it's time, without switching.
Almost everything is ready.
The brilliant beats in the package positioned at the level of his heart, inside pocket.
has a headache now, the tension ... .. if he says no?
can not wait any longer.
knocks next door Sandy does not respond, but it is normal to be so, then pushes the handle down and open the door, entering with a drunken smile.
purple as never takes her hand and the door to her room, she looks surprised, always has some surprise painted on his face.
picks her up and lay it gently on the bed.
The approaches and passes a hand through his blond hair and smiling embarrassed
begins ... "Well ... here ... I. .. well .... I wanted to surprise and .... I want to ask" the voice of the dies in the throat and gasps a bit ', but continues "I would tell you that for me you are a special woman Sandy and I are madly in love with you and that is why I ask you ...." So saying, Intruder in the pocket and pulls out the package you want to become my wife? "Sandy
astonished. Sandy
property.
Sandy has a ring on her finger, but remains silent.
J. Sandy kisses his way and she seems to reciprocate.
J. undoes her blouse to Sandy, with his stubby fingers and impatient, feeling the scent of bubble gum that fills the nostrils up to the smell that his lung capacity allows him. Everything is perfect
tremendously. Perfect.
The passion grows exponentially according to the second hand.
A surge that does not stop.
J. body is immersed in the fairy tale of Sandy, is catapulted into his secret world.
They make love and Sandy J. Nell'arancione that fills the room saturated with the essence of roses and the smell of their bodies.
remain, however, now lying on the petals wilted, J. is tired, but serene ... dare I say too much.
Sandy still without words to fill the mouth.
He whispers sweet words, then gets up and takes her again to hand
is naked and beautiful, soft and fragrant.
The trill of her cell phone distracts him, distractions that can often define unfortunately fatal.
answers and in so doing leaves the hand of Sandy ..
Sandy slips.
Sandy falls.
Sandy falls on the roses.
the thorns scratch my back.
J. can not believe what I see, the voice on the other side of the receiver loses all value, no longer includes even the meaning of words, his eyes tearing salted sees his dream of love.
The future can be terrible even before arriving in some cases ... this is one of those.
J. collapsed.
J. Sandy called and seeing avvizirsi losing its three-dimensionality.
She stays with her expression of astonishment on his face, always silent.
"Sandy, my love ...." sob J.
His dream of love destroyed by a plug capricious, "I do not give you anything, you were happy anyway ....".
Goes off the sun in Las Vegas.
the sun goes out on a love of plastic.
Goes off the sun on her doll.
Massacrateci well please ...................
0 comments:
Post a Comment