not sleep too long. I
of blue under the eyes that not even the Prussians. He
night I heard the fan run for a while and I held 'the paw of the cat.
Then I surrendered to sweat.
At home I like the book collection. The fact that the three of a blazing Sunday in the street to meet friends when I have not seen for some time. I like to open the drawer to find socks and find six or seven ties of skin that do not put for years.
Saturday evening in Turin was trying to become unstuck and off the fog that often synthetic layer that envelops me every time I finish a story.
walked along the river with a nice dress and sandals, talking too fast, but without much to say.
I smoked two or three cigarettes and drank a beer in a giant glass of like popcorn. I also argued with the bouncer.
It all seemed very natural.
Yesterday, on the train, I could not sleep. Even the discography Mogwai has managed to get bored enough.
Landed in Emilia, the thermal shock me cower in the face with a shovel. Rattling like a sheet wrung out.
I'm still trying to recover.
But the bulk is done. Slaughter
white blade. All kosher. Certificate the rabbi.
As some might say, a professional job. We
incellofanare everything and send it to the courier.
I stop for a while 'looking at the spines of a cactus that grows.
Maybe tonight I will remember to give him a drink.
Meanwhile Monday.
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