tsutsumi @ 2010-06-26T01: 44:00
after an actual incident
-. in a little nail-biter
I just want to be invisible at night. flee the city, hoping to escape her somehow undetected to bed to and still all ears and eyes and heart.
On Hermannplatz rigid three English club people as long fall to the timetable at the station wall until it nearly on the tracks, just in the moment is the U-Bahn blown there. A middle-aged woman with rock-hard facial features and an appalling affectation- screams "Hey Hello!" but they do not understand, yes. You can hear the track by itself.
rises Three stops later, a homeless man with a corroded clothes and crutches. His shoes are so corrupt that it looks more feet than anything else. He asks for money. "Only a few cents for a Coke." Three times he repeated the sentence and remains in progress until the next available station. No one sees him-of course-but they all smell it. It is the sweet, crumbly smell of urine, dirt, sweat and all the sins of the world. The woman across from me turn away, at the next station, four people flee the train.
you tear open the windows. The man next to me holds out his pack of Mentos,
"I'll throw 'a round! This holds even here, no! "
But he grins and gives a woman with the face of granite from something, because she holds a handkerchief pressed to her mouth and moaning and clamored what it's worth.
"I never know how to deal with such encounters," I begin. "Who knows whether it really is a Coke or a bottle of booze"
But my neighbor just laughs;
"As Good as It would to wash's Center!"
I regret it, put the Mentos have to. Anyway, it tastes of liquorice.
This city seems at times as an unknown person sitting next to a on the train, crowded, you can feel and smell and you can almost hear his thoughts. The one in the next moment a curse thrown in his face. For a smile, there are three "You're fat!", For one day of sunshine you get a week of rain weather.
But there is nowhere better.
creep With this bitter licorice taste in home, in the shade.
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