There are days when the keyboard writes itself. Makes use of my fingers. I look at them in silence while beating letters in sequence and I leave work ...
Why I woke up so early? The house is still upside down. I can not find a shoe. The door slams in the face of the building to a wet morning and immoral. Crumbs on the floor of a movie, a pizza plastic between swallowing a sip of beer and a cigarette without filter. The stench of smoke is devouring the plaster walls in a few minutes will reached the red stone cooked. I feel my stomach cramps tattered emptied. What happened in the night? Two bare feet emerge from a plaid blanket thrown on the couch. A tattooed arm swings carefully to the rhythm of a breath too sleepy. My body is no longer the same. The skin no longer has my smell. In my head it sounds an unlikely band of rowdy slamming sticks on my sore temples.
I just hope I have not exaggerated. The last time they took Charlie arrested the night.
But Charlie is not. He always does what he wants. Wins its share of the world with the innocence of a child's eyes and those dark curls resting on shoulders. I could never get mad at him.
Pass hand over his face and meeting my face. The sweaty forehead, his eyes tired. I have something on your nose. I mirror. Another piercing.
"Fuck Charlie! This time you could at least tell me! "
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