What then Luigi, moved with compassion for my state of semi-poverty, he found buyers. With powerful and highly placed knowledge, has discovered a pair of vintage men in Germany, very munificent. It 's been a good morning, all radiant and well-groomed. I had already made three beck's nostalgic smoked and frozen to the window. In his underwear. The puppy cat-mouse looked at me with compassionate eyes, then started playing with a beer cap. The point as the matador does with a bull.
car was silent and thoughtful. He looked at me, silent. At the end he has not held:
"What is it you are coming in doubt?".
"No, it's no longer safe.".
"It 's a normal thing, it happens. But it's just a hut. And they pay ten times more than an Italian. It 'a unique opportunity. "
"I know, but I have many memories in that place.".
"You're a romantic, and mica knew ...". A poor
sentimental weakling. I am fond of things, I detach myself from the difficult memories. So stupid and the barrel of gas to be forced to sell. Cynics have happened and grain, and are not forced to sell. Do not have time to be romantic. The fucking cat chasing its tail. Luigi
snuffed at every hole of dirt roads and bumpy. His custom-docile annasapava scared. And he trembled, with delicate suspension, like a virgin lost. But we arrived. Waiting there, with Teutonic punctuality. Two German postcard. Closer to eighty to ninety. Whitish skin and slight redness. He wore a yellow mustache, Lombroso cheekbones, jaw hard and strong-willed, Celestine and slit eyes, and shiny head, the spots of old age reflected the rays of the sun, just hidden by a hair light. Of course wearing shorts explorer. She, an adorable Bacucco overweight with the beer belly and stomach from habitual consumption of hot dogs, wearing a garish vestal tiny flowers on a black background. Hair of a white wicker chilling under a straw hat as a tourist model. Two strains scary. Terrible! Straight out of a film in black and white Nazi horror. Adorable old men serial killer. They looked at me smiling and winking. Then they started chatting
dense-packed with Luigi. I was waiting for the translation and said nothing. Every now and then insulted them in a low voice. "Ugly nazistoni of shit! You'll never have my house! "" You must bear at Nuremberg, in Nuremberg. " They did not understand, looked at me and smiled in unison. They said it was beautiful. Turns the placid expression, a shrill incomprehensible exclamations and stern look, with a wisp of icy ferocity in his eyes. Have moved away to enjoy the country setting. Centuries-old olive trees, almonds, cherries, figs, many chips. I have a weakness for chips. And the fig tree trunks and leaves rough fragile. There's one hanging on the wall side of the house, but the chips are not yet ripe. I approached the ugly business, which adjusts the clump and control the phone.
"But here there is no field, no field." Stirred. Waiting for the call of some of his friends. Some guy in questionable taste, of course.
"Look I am not sure, my property in the hands of two ravines Boche, with the face of Kraut, Kraut clothes, the voice of Kraut. Do I look like someone who sells his property to Nazis? Eh? ".
"I do not think the joke if ...".
"And those kids? Never been more serious. I do fear those two old men.. "
"Do as you like, you broke my balls for a year, and now that I've found someone to pay, you pull back? You are a shelter ... "
" What's the hurry? It 's just the first meeting. Maybe they wanted two davvvero Nazis. Priebke! Here! He looks like Priebke! The monster of Ardeatine, is his brother. "
"Do what you believe, but come with the money later this month. we have the grain the Germans. "
The two have returned, I was close wrinkled hands, and they are gone, with the ncrescioso commitment to meet again soon. Pure Louis is gone.
"I'll stay here, I walk two steps, after.."
"But I'm 4 miles away.."
"I know, we feel.."
I walked around the fields, ate two apricots, Vispe saw two lizards from the ground, quivering and afraid. I'm lying on the grass and I smoked a cigarette. The birds sang tirelessly, I came to take them to gunshots. Then I remembered that repudiation of the weapons, it says. I watched the sky. Among the discrete clouds, I saw two funny dwarf with a pipe, and a polar bear who was a bidet.
I went into the house. There were the remains of the last time. Hard bread surrounded by a brownish transparent ants, various pickles, majonnaise expired, a withered apple, empty bottles. In one there was wine. Me I am drained down one's throat. Harsh and revolting. Excellent. I lay in bed. I imagined that in a while 'you recline their gaunt cheeks and mushy, the two Teutonic Aryan from hospice. They have a foot in the grave, laughing and buying. I am a young sapling and sell, with the face of Italian sad that scale the Alpe d'Huez. They sing hymns disguised Nazis eat sauerkraut. What a mess! I, who had big plans for that place. Married, living annuity and snerchiuta creative writing or art. Together with my young bride, semi-illiterate and a woman alcoholic, but with the artistic soul and a sensitive ass. We lived on pastoralism, fruits of the earth and selfless love. "Women make love, because between us there is no need to talk to you now ... I want to be worthy, you are queen of my little kingdom, which in my world is small, there is a light that comes from the heart." Sure, you asshole. Grow up, asshole! that you no longer sixteen. And stop with these pathetic songs! I often speak to myself.
"I'll stay here, I walk two steps, after.."
"But I'm 4 miles away.."
"I know, we feel.."
I walked around the fields, ate two apricots, Vispe saw two lizards from the ground, quivering and afraid. I'm lying on the grass and I smoked a cigarette. The birds sang tirelessly, I came to take them to gunshots. Then I remembered that repudiation of the weapons, it says. I watched the sky. Among the discrete clouds, I saw two funny dwarf with a pipe, and a polar bear who was a bidet.
I went into the house. There were the remains of the last time. Hard bread surrounded by a brownish transparent ants, various pickles, majonnaise expired, a withered apple, empty bottles. In one there was wine. Me I am drained down one's throat. Harsh and revolting. Excellent. I lay in bed. I imagined that in a while 'you recline their gaunt cheeks and mushy, the two Teutonic Aryan from hospice. They have a foot in the grave, laughing and buying. I am a young sapling and sell, with the face of Italian sad that scale the Alpe d'Huez. They sing hymns disguised Nazis eat sauerkraut. What a mess! I, who had big plans for that place. Married, living annuity and snerchiuta creative writing or art. Together with my young bride, semi-illiterate and a woman alcoholic, but with the artistic soul and a sensitive ass. We lived on pastoralism, fruits of the earth and selfless love. "Women make love, because between us there is no need to talk to you now ... I want to be worthy, you are queen of my little kingdom, which in my world is small, there is a light that comes from the heart." Sure, you asshole. Grow up, asshole! that you no longer sixteen. And stop with these pathetic songs! I often speak to myself.
Before you sell me I must come to the last key, the next order seems propitious. I was about to fall asleep, and I imagined a cunt I whistled sweet words dirty love. So I decided to masturbate. I pulled out of his trousers, looked distressed c'aveva and hot, but the chapel was already bloated. I took a firm lead him hither calm. And I have come. Then m'รจ got a bit 'of depression and slept.
If any reader is interested in a rustic fuck, before selling the Krauts, please send me an email with CV. And attached three photos: Chiappe, lips and back. It inspires me back. Since July I could only guarantee a normal apartment.
voster-always-voster
