When you open your eyes, first one, then the other, it costs a few seconds to understand something of what happens. Anyone who has awakened from general anesthesia ever more or less know what I mean. Before you move your body, move the eyes and try to recognize the place. No hospital, no sickness, no anesthesia. The bed is double, sheets and blanket, all white. The walls that color look dirty, chalky, and have some land marks and scotch tape that had been attached and removed afterwards.
The room is big. Facing the bed, a huge shelf full of discs, vinyl and others. To his left, a window-door which opens onto a patio with plants and lets too much light makes everything look closer to how it really is. To his right, he sleeps naked, giving back.
I want water.
still motionless on the other side of the bed, try to think of something other than thirst and headache. Try to remember how they were events.
Let's see ... events ... first the main street with the photos that were drawing, drawing they were still teenagers. Making it beautiful and made up fuck you to the camera. Girlfriends. In the drugstore, the kids, a text message, another wine, another message. Gearbox problems and to find the house. Finally, the party and nothing special. The dog annoys newcomers. The huge white cat climbs a tree and stay there until you go people.
was easy for her to be a little star there. Everybody watched, everybody wanted to know his name and talk. And contrary to what was intended to be, it was decided by the popularity and the parties, by laughing and verbosity. Like her friends, was most pleasant, chatting with everyone and was shown (although not necessarily was) very interested in what everyone had to say. I listened to the sentences of others with pleasure, with something like affection. Could not be otherwise.
drink more than the others and dance a long time. He loves music but does not understand the issue and seems to want to. Not worth it tell something about the band is playing.
He forgets the smell of cigarettes that will have the next day and the subjects took longer. Spring is her favorite season.
's late, sleepy and goes to sleep is the only bed. The boy in red shirt, maybe the landlord is about to ask if it's okay. Yes it is. The friend asked if he wants to leave or stay. Want to get up, comb your hair, put on your shoes, call a taxi, wait in sidewalk and come to your bed, which left a carpet of clothing and notes? I'm .
all makes perfect sense then. Someone tries to disrupt your sleep stroke her face, arms, talking. It is the red shirt guy. What is it, nothing, well this is my bed. I like the guy but can not wake up. Yes, think you like and the feeling is definitely mutual. T-shirts are removed, clumsy movements. I want to sleep. I really want to sleep. Events, there were few.
few hours of nothing until the sun floods the room and wake up thirsty. Finally, it moves.
I ache all over, and when I say everything I mean everything.
His muscular and the rest of the clothes go on the floor. He dresses well and looks just the portfolio, where the camera is, five dollars and credit without battery cell. Walk around the room to an exit, you see a bathroom, but do not want to look in the mirror. He stops a moment to look at the boy, whose red shirt is in the bedside table. should wake him, or leave a note o. ..
not know what to do, and does nothing.
Upon crossing the door, trip over the sleeping cat.
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