3 hours sitting in a car like ride, practically nothing to do except stay the course and ensure slow tolls: Highway at night. And it has gradually subsided on the seat next. I knew she was sleeping when she stopped humming and his head was tossed from the slightest deviation from the car.
It's 2 o'clock in the morning and my cheeks make me the effect of a piece of sandpaper when I pass my hands on it. I open my window a little and a dash of wind unknown creeps into the car, a small blow air from a foreign region.
The station released a halo of clarity reassuring and I smile like an idiot, like if I found civilization, just because there are spots everywhere, color pumps gasoline and a shop full of food and gadgets. I'm nase.
She has unfolded like a meter carpenter, she pulled a little on her dress, she shuddered and put on a sweater, she smoothed her hair quickly with the tips of his fingers and took the direction of the house bright orange and red.
In there, I smell a fake coffee and a chemical odor difficult to define the essence or plastic, then something quite disgusting. Side of the body, there must be a radio and Cindy Lauper explains to anyone who will listen that girls just want to have fun and I am quite tempted to believe her.
She perches on a stool and began to sip his coffee cup holding her in the palm of his hands clasped, almost as if it were something precious and fragile. I wonder in front of her and I let my eyes wander over the little table between us : round coffee and crumbs. It's not a nickel spot, but she would royally fucks. She looks at me, smiling behind his steaming hot coffee, and his eyes are just for me. I am still surprised to have caught a girl like her. His bare legs make me be the effect of gingerbread, but softer, I have an urge to touch her sacred.
A guy a little further twists off the head casually to watch it. I appreciate having the minimum size of her skirt, unless it is a fan of his bright red Converse. I do not know.
On my way to the cash I get a chocolate milk and a Christmas tree car freshener vanilla; I tell myself a little too late that the odor may give the jet and we'll run out of water if it eats chocolate, but I take my credit card without saying anything. Cindy Lauper returned to bed and gave way to Frank Sinatra who likes to die. I wonder if a split second I like to die and then I forget.
She expects me standing against the window, absorbed in contemplation of the lights of the station. I will not say that I find it beautiful because I hear his response "you're crazy or what? You seen my head, I like nothing there," but I find it really horny with her honey-colored legs, his sneakers red, her sweater too long because it's mine and his smile just for me. I do not know if she realizes that I have gold at your fingertips with her.
Outside, we hurried on to the car. Everything is dark around, as if the station was under a high-powered projector in the middle of nowhere. Never seen a night so black. I distinguish motionless trees, leafy silhouettes asleep. Never seen a night so silent.
... Watch
There is the road to watch the pre-cut white lines which define the safety barrier that snakes metallically and thighs that catches my eyes when the headlights come periscope in the cockpit of the car. 
0 comments:
Post a Comment