How Much To Struts Cost

Racconto - Greg Sylvian (esaustiva summa del morboso)

TRACCIA 1 – EDONISMO SPICCIOLO

Il signor Bosom è un gran mangiafica a tempo perso. Lo hanno visto a casa di Lady Godette con un mazzo di rose bianche sotto braccio e una scatola di cioccolatini al benzene stretta nella mano. Nella veranda di Sir Plastico non c’è ombra di igiene e Dr. Linus se ne avvede con gran sconcerto. E’ il party più fallimentare del secolo, è innegabile. Mr Bosom è appollaiato sul davanzale di una finestra, dall’altra parte dello sgargiante giardino di casa Plastico. Tutta la crème è intenta a intrattenersi con aneddoti e storielle di varia foggia e incostante credibilità. “Non c’è più senilità nel portamento di Balestra. Eravamo in tredici a sostenerlo e sono la sola sopravvissuta. Una ragione deve esserci, non trova, Dr. Linus?” L’uomo si desta in quell’istante dall’attenta osservazione degli invitati. “Ehm…certo Jasmine. Lo penso anch’io.” L’anziana donna ride coprendosi pudicamente la dentatura rifatta di fresco. “Voi sapete sempre divertirmi, che uomo eccentrico siete. Intendevo, trovate che ci sia una ragione nel fatto che sono ancora viva?”

“E’ evidente che siete estremamente anonima, mia cara.” Le rivolge un sorriso gelido e lei si scioglie. Preme una mano contro il petto rugoso e saluta distrattamente un uomo obeso e orribile. Intanto Mr. Bosom sta dando fondo alle riserve di Cristal del padrone di casa. Porta i suoi sessant’anni malissimo e la ragione è più che chiara. Karen lo avvicina e lo sfiora con guanti di raso. Sono amanti da un paio d’anni. Lei ha al massimo quarant’anni, portati benone. Sarà la chirurgia plastica, sarà la palestra, ma tutti se la vorrebbero filare. Nell’ultima ora l’atmosfera si è appesantita. Arrivano voci che la festa sia stata spostata fuori dalla villa a causa di una fastidiosa invasione di scarafaggi. Pare che la sola vittima sia stata la figlia di Plastico, a tender meat dumplings. "My God, poor thing ..." Jasmine's eyes are shiny. Pulls out a silk handkerchief from her handbag Prada and drying what little moisture that is able to produce. "Life goes on, my dear. Rather, I am concerned that these beasts can reach the cars parked out front. I would be very disappointed if I had to go home with the tires chewed by those abominations. "

" O Lord! You are right, Dr. Linus! I must warn my driver. "Attempt to dial a number on TV, but did not succeed. He seeks help from a waiter and eventually the operation was successful. Dr. Linus walks away bored. Mr. reaches Bosom. There trace of Karen, but the aged philanderer has soiled his lips with lipstick. Linus picks up a napkin from the nearest buffet table and hands it to her. "Thanks, but ... what?"

"Lipstick. It would be good to avoid these things in public, even if your wife is not present tonight. "Bosom is cleaned thoroughly and then throw the fly piece of cloth on the tray of a passing waiter. "Get yours, Linus. I am old and shabby and the prostate is leaving me. I enjoy it as long as I can. Do the same too. Just because you're ten years younger does not mean that durerai forever. "Winked and swallowed yet another mocking bicchiere di champagne. Si dirige barcollando verso una donna che sta riempiendo il suo piattino di tartine di carne di struzzo. Le avvicina la bocca alla nuca e le alita nell’orecchio qualcosa di simile a: “Mia cara, sei dolce come sperma caldo, vorrei mungerti senza pietà. Quella la conservo per i momenti in cui mi tiro le seghe, che sennò rischio di strapparmelo.” Dr. Linus ignora la scena e si porta fino alla veranda. L’interno della casa è silenzioso e le luci sono tutte accese, nonostante non si scorga anima viva all’interno. L’impianto stereo manda Take this bottle dei Faith no more. Varca la soglia senza indugio e avanza seguendo le forme del costoso tappeto persiano che occupa buona parte del pavimento della room. A white marble staircase leads to a loft onto which other ports of entry and Plastic studio where he discussed several times on the fate of the planet after the death of Tom Jones. Coming out to look for the driver, when a cry followed by a thud attract his attention. The trail ends at that time and the cd comes out suddenly The Gentle Art of Making Enemies. The pace increases your heart rate. Climbs the stairs, step by step and warned another sound, and other violent cries, partly covered by the music. It appropinqua entry of the study and faces. Sir plastic is bent, the shoulders, on his desk. He is working on something with great vigor, sometimes blasphemy a voce alta e batte il pugno sulla radica del mobile. Linus fa per chiamarlo ma in quel momento nota un particolare disgustoso ai piedi dell’amico. Il parquet è cosparso dai corpi di decine di scarafaggi enormi, tutti morti, a parte un paio che ancora agitano le zampe e tentano di raddrizzarsi dalla posizione supina. Nello stesso istante una mano lo afferra a una spalla. Con una flessione che gli procura una fitta alla schiena ruota su sé stesso, ma qualcuno lo immobilizza con eccezionale vigore e un’altra mano gli serra la bocca. Mugugna qualcosa e due occhi azzurri da tedesco lo fissano pazienti. L’uomo, alto, biondo e colossale, gli fa cenno di fare silenzio e lo trascina lontano dallo studio, vicino alle scale. Appena si allontana da lui, Note the filthy overalls and an unmistakable emblem stitched on the chest. "She is the insect, right?"

"Yes, please, have Gunther." The man's accent leaves no doubt about its origins. Linus offers him his hand but no sign of even tight. "I do not seem appropriate to do so, Sir Plastic know very well. I will have to complain about her, believe me. "Gunther bowed his head slightly. "I'm sorry, but it was going to interfere with a sufferer. Let him alone with his pain, please. "Linus slips a hand into his pocket and takes out a cigar. The light and careless view details the house as it was the first time you enter. "What a pain, sorry? The disappearance of her daughter, perhaps? "

" Yes, please, come. "Linus starts, then stops. "What's he doing now? I've seen those cut cockroaches, I do not understand ... "The exterminator shakes his head and becomes more aggressive. "There are things that interest you!"

"Oh no! Instead the concern. Gunther, let it go. "The look of plastic that now we possessed fixed by the double door of the study both catches them unprepared. Gunther looks at Linus for the last time, upset, and down the stairs with a shrug. "Come on, Linus, my friend." Linus approaches skeptical and afraid. "The regain my, you know? Indeed, I'm already getting it back. Come. "Entering the study. The smell is sweet, very bad. The bodies of insects are exposed to stomach open, thrown into every corner of hysteria uncommon to plastic. A bucket heads on the desk, flanked by a plastic bag full of horrible dead bodies of insects. The stench coming from there. "Come." The landlord shall remind him again. "No, I think I can ..." sweat drip copious hours on the forehead of Linus and must pass his sleeve over his eyes to prevent burning. "... Er, di poter…” Plastico gli sorride, le rughe gli deformano i lineamenti. Gli occhi emanano una luce distante, quasi assente, i baffi lo rendono stranamente ferino e le mani, le mani sono lorde, unte, le unghie annerite. “Di poter cosa, amico mio?”

“Di poter reggere ciò che mi vuoi mostrare. Mio Dio…tu la stai estraendo da ognuno di loro…Mio Dio, cosa…cosa stai facendo, smettila, per favore…” Plastico gli si accosta e fa per toccarlo. Linus si allontana con un salto. Una morsa gli prende lo stomaco. Chi gli sta di fronte non è Plastico. E’ un uomo molto somigliante, vestito allo stesso modo. Solo ora nota i capelli raccolti in una coda stretta, quasi nascosta, dietro la testa. “Lei chi è? Chi cazzo è lei?”

“Dovresti saperlo, figlio di puttana, dovresti saperlo benissimo. Io sono il timore che la finanza ti faccia visita e scopra i tuoi altarini. Sono l’indifferenza dell’emorroide che ti morde le carni del deretano nelle notti insonni e dolorose in cui maledici i tuoi medici. Sono il carcinoma informe che ti cresce dentro ma che non confessi. Sono la fica di tua moglie che si presta a tutti tranne che a te, sono il sipario che si cala ogni volta che il grottesco ha la meglio su tutto, sono la nera pece che dal proscenio cola abbondante sugli spettatori nel momento del monologo decisivo, sono l’ircocervo, la chimera, sono Greg Sylvian e tienilo bene a mente, perché mi piace perseguitare chi mi teme e tu ora te la stai facendo sotto.” Linus si volta e comincia una folle fuga verso l’ingresso di casa. Urta il passamano e zoppica giù per le scale con il cuore che minaccia di scoppiare. Raggiunge il giardino e drappelli di persone lo osservano esterrefatte. E’ zuppo di sudore, scarmigliato e rosso in volto. Jasmine gli corre vicino e lo sostiene leggermente. “Cosa succede, caro? Hai visto Plastico?” Senza una parola ricomincia a correre e scompare dalla vista di tutti.

TRACK 2 - FETISH feticide

"I offer the kind attention of His Majesty epilepsy an extremely thorny : women are all dissolute? "The Courtier and listen to Johnny scaccola absorbed by passing the dirty finger between the plots of his cloak. "Of course not, under the thumb ... if anything could be called quintessence of morbid." He gets up and hands him a cup filled with manure to his sister. She swallowed in silence for a long time everyone in the boardroom look embarrassed. The supreme ass, write excellent, spoke again. "Yes, my lord. This is disgusting. Continue, please. "The courtier Johnny gets up from his throne and near the cage of finches. She masturbates hard and try to hit them with sperm. Those flapping hysterical and one ends up on the bottom, caught up in the semen. "Sex is a trap. A device made to ensnare evil every sentient creature and get it without emotional involvement is the only solution that makes man free. Cold and fake our children will know if we educate them with sodomy and wisdom. "He raises his arms to the sky light and dense angelica, lo colpisce accecandolo. Preme le mani sul volto strillando e si accascia tra le vesti che lo ricoprono nascondendone la forma. Lo scrivano accorre con le lacrime agli occhi. Solleva il pesante mantello d’ermellino e del cortigiano non è rimasta ombra. I guerrieri, le dame, la folla tutta rumoreggia e diverse bestemmie echeggiano nel vasto ambiente. “Era il solo che io amassi con furore. Necessito una scopata seduta stante.” Il deretano supremo afferra rude la sorella del defunto reggente e la penetra attraverso le vesti. Lei attende tregua per sollevarle, silente. Tredici segugi si affacciano dall’entrata e copulano schizzando un gruppo di giullari falliti. Nessuno ride e la cinepresa compie una panoramica dei volti meno significativi, all merciless close-ups revealing wrinkles and blemishes. Tarantella hateful comes from the outside and a herd of dancers rough makes its appearance between the whistles of those present. A naked young makes its way through the crowd and reach the throne. We go above and urinating sull'arazzo real cries: "I love the bitterness of this chronic epicondinite. I love the solo shady I get vicious in the interstices of time cropping fellatio hidden and stuffed with a runny substance mellifluous and sprinkles and kills and eats those apostolic potential likewise created the seal that keeps me from being a teenager and pure essence of fluff Scient. Sometimes I cry together, sometimes free, but the only figures that junk Sollazzo and the regrowth of hair groin. "A bald girl grabs him and throws him to the cage of finches in a move to martial arts. The metal structure is torn from the body in flight and all the birds perform in a coordinated flight over the heads of a band of dwarves disfigured by the fire at the brothel last month. The birds make a vagina button then take the form of a trident. A window is shattered with incredible noise and an old man with a bottle of absinthe in hand and a torch in the other Bercia something incomprehensible and spits a fiery cone. The finches roasted fall one after the other and ferrets sodomites grain struggle with blows of the rod to eat meat. Meanwhile, a man with his face covered with a tunic is revealed and everyone recognizes Greg Sylvian. Spread your arms and let the faithful's dock hands and bare feet. A black man clutching the long hair and try to sodomize. Greg makes it harmless to the positioning of fingers on his scrotum dark. It is addressed to the bald girl who now lies in wait on the throne with arms and faces enormous pressure on the breasts. "Today I discovered a mushroom growths on my navel. It 's the sign that I have to give me the funk and stop to fill up my records of that formless psychedelic patchwork of ethnic influences. "The female figure of the bald is revealed in all its glory when the tunic from her worn vanishes in the form of a white weasel. A Russula protruding from his abdomen and umbrella pulses passing from flesh pink to bright red. "Sylvian, knew of my coming, and so you show up in the hope, ultimately, to fuck, right?" He is progressing slowly, followed by the faithful who, like leeches are harpooned at every joint. "You speak well, or my potential concubine. Come and give me a pump, here, in front of them, so they understand the true essence of sin. "The young man rises from the rubble naked rusty cage and proudly displays the procurategli thousand wounds from the scourging of the bars ripped. Mr. Smangle points a finger at Greg and declares: "I do not and original sin is the most complete abstinence. There is no garbage that the trivial pleasure of causing pain to give more drunkenness. There is not and apparently never will be the most sadistic because of irreversible mass hysteria. There is more frugal meal of rotting awareness of the individual to be mediocre and haphazard. We would all be needed and instead matryoshkas onions exposed to dry out the nail as butterflies are more than us. "A villager from the hairy and ape-crazy features the young man with a blow to the shoulder that does not leave him escape. Within seconds his body was slaughtered and eaten by the thirteen hounds soon fade away wagging his tail. The bald looks and laughs shaking his head and rubbing your clitoris inhuman speed. Sylvian seizes the day and with his hands nailed to the arms of the huge steel seat. In turn, he and the faithful to pierce the lower abdomen and she writhes like a snake. Bites and strikes at random and opens a wound in the arm of Greg, but they do not desist from entering. A wave of heat involves the storage of bodies and many are thrown to the ground in flames. The spiritual head off the fire that burns the hair in the spittoon under the throne and emerges covered with saliva, mucus and phlegm. His lackeys are made by scared and huddle hugging each other. All lay stunned with the old absinthe facing Sylvian. His mouth is full of flammable liquid and moves with his legs outstretched, ready to take a slight movement of Greg. That performs a malicious smile and opens her arms still full of dummies. "Old man, I did not get swept this enemy and fresh young lips swollen." The Old Man swallows absinthe. "That's my mother, pig!" Its almost bluish color reflects the torch-wielding angry. "I understand, Oedipus or fetish, I understand. Listen, I propose a deal not to refuse. My life for that of your ... "See the beautiful young girl, raising an eyebrow. "... Um, your mother with my own. These beggars can also have fun farli a pezzi. Anzi, ti pregherei di farlo. Da quando hanno imparato a leggere mi sento in pericolo, dato che gli scritti che conservo nelle mie stanze sono di vitale importanza per la perpetuazione del culto e che uno dei suoi punti di forza è l’ignoranza dei fedeli.” Lancia un’occhiata severa ai villici tremanti intorno a loro. Il vecchio ingurgita altro liquido etilico e appronta la fiamma davanti alla bocca. Sylvian corre in ogni direzione e quando cerca rifugio tra i fedeli questi lo respingono come fosse un lebbroso. L’attempato guerriero continua a puntarlo e all’ennesima spinta di uno dei suoi, Greg si trova scoperto e in mezzo alla stanza una nube d’alito incandescente lo investe. La sua figura prende fuoco dalla cintola in up and the screams of the artist come together to the applause of the crowd. Some open packages Fonzies, cook other marmots skinned, but most disappear in single file complaining about the high price of the ticket. She surrounds the old and embracing are crying for a long time. Without further ado, the scene changes and with it the play of light.

TRACK 3 - INSECTS

We are in winter and ice studs adorn the jambs of the windows of a modest cottage. A child down the moor, melancholy. He felt that this year there will be no spring or summer. His father told him during the last propitiatory killing of the scapegoat. "The insides are clear" he had said. "We can forget the summer season this year. We will have to warm up just sleeping in the bellies of cows slaughtered. And when all this is over we will end up full of rheumatic pain due to moisture than guts. "And he took refuge in the barn, looking for just those mice nati che il gatto aveva tentato di stanare senza successo. Ora è nella sala da pranzo e sua madre sta preparando lo stufato. Indossa la giacca e sistema i gusci di scarafaggio sotto i piedi, per non affondare nella neve. Si reca nel granaio e mentre attraversa l’aia intravede le galline, raggruppate come acini d’uva, sulle mensole del pollaio. Entra nel capannone ed estrae il fucile che ha nascosto mesi addietro nel vano tra un’asse smossa e la parete esterna. Accende le torce per illuminare l’ambiente e subito un’ombra si staglia enorme sul soffitto. Il bambino trasale e preme il grilletto. La gragnola di pallini si pianta in un palo, tra le balle di fieno. Percepisce un veloce raspare lungo le pareti. Una forma nera compare per un attimo behind a trough. Shoot again and a dull thud marks the end of the bustle. He approaches the origin of the noise and find the body of a huge beetle, two meters long. The projectiles have almost wrecked. Grab a fork and begins to separate the carapace. "Well done, bambiiiino ..." He turns abruptly, limbs stretched and shortness of breath. Space with the look, but does not identify other than his presence. Place the rifle on his shoulder, ready to fire and moves between the troughs arranged in parallel rows. "You pauuura?" The voice is thin, almost absent and is lost in a reverb that does not permit indefinite understand its origin. "You know who was that? Yes, yes. He was your ... "

"Shut up! Shut up! "The explosion of the gun port silence again. The child is flushed from the effort to scream so loud and keep the barrel pointing up, still smoking. Tremendous advances, point your gun in any direction and feel waves of adrenaline that make the brain pulsating. "Needless to find me. If anything, I'll show myself. I am the supreme bambiiiino. And I want you, oooora. Reborn is coming a second time, is the denial of divine eiaculatio precoooooox that has put us all in the world and I want you to be reborn. Indoloooooore will ... "

" What do you want? Why me? I do just what my father tells me "The voice is closer, it seems a few steps away from him. "Tesooooro ... you just killed your father." The child clicks on the side and shoot into a pile of hay. Now hear clearly something lightning at a gallop along the walls and approaching. Open the gun and tries to grope the cartridges, it finds them, bends down and sees him slip from his pocket, reaches out to grab her, put in a desperate, foaming at the mouth to the panic, it closes the weapon, glassy eye , each breath a gasp of terror, looks up and sees. The harpoons and a leg off the hands of equity. The blood gushes to the fontanel. The screams are mixed with pain, almost surgical nerve. La faccia distorta in un ghigno di Greg Sylvian lo sovrasta. Ride sguaiata e non cessa di ondeggiargli davanti, sostenuta da un corpo vermiforme di nemertini. Si muove più vicino trascinandosi dietro un cilindro bianco lungo alcuni metri, ricoperto di pustole nere. “Ti ho preeeeso, ti ho preeeeso, ti ho preeeeeeeso, ti ho…” La nenia martella costante, il silenzio sembra non giungere mai. Invece, come sempre, arriva.

TRACCIA 4 – NEFROSI DELLA MENZOGNA

An elegant man in suit is sitting at a table with drawers, old and crumbling. Three individuals are the opposite. Does not distinguish features and clothing, since the strong light of a lamp is pointed at him, but he did a pretty good idea of \u200b\u200bthem. They are probably undercover agents. The room in which they are gross and smelly. He noted that teeth, nails and streams of blood sprinkled and spotted the wall to his right, accompanied an ominous warning to the chains hanging from rusty nails industrial sales in Russia. His lip was split, as two of the upper incisors. It has a half-closed eyes and swollen and tie and shirt stained red. It looks horrible already imagine. Li was asked to leave immediately lose face, but have not heard. The agent supports the one hand to the table and leans toward him. "Mr. Presley, you decide to speak and we will be happy to leave it to its valuable social duties." The agent 2 makes strange gestures with his head. "Very true, very true. You give us what we are trying and we will reward you with immediate release and completely acquitted. "The agent 3 runs around the desk and approaches, bringing her face up to it. He has high cheekbones and skin of the cheeks seem to have been subjected to numerous facelifts. "We read all about lei, siamo al corrente di ogni particolare.” L’uomo abbassa lo sguardo. “Tutto? Per esempio?”

“Per esempio della sua scappatella notturna al Leibniz con quel sordido sodomita arabo che vende filmini snuff.”

“Mio Dio…ma che state dicendo? Non conosco gente del genere!” L’agente 3 lo schiaffeggia forte abbastanza da farlo quasi cadere dalla sedia. “Animale! Inutile fingere. Abbiamo le foto, le testimonianze e quanto ci basta per incastrarti e immerdarti fino e sopra al collo.” L’agente 2 getta sprezzante un fascicolo sul tavolo. L’uomo lo prende, titubante, fissando l’agente 3 con timore reverential. Scrolls through the pages and see that the first photographs show people wealthy and luxurious villas occupied by the pool in orgiastic revels. There is no shadow of himself. The following pictures are blurry and of poor quality. You see men evidently photographed from a great distance, exchanging bags. The place of exchange, it would seem an airport is always the same, but change the clothes of the subject and light. His presence, once again, latita. 3 The agent's snatches the folder and hands it to the agent 2, then grabs the man by the collar of his jacket and shook him. "Well? So! Do not say anything all this? "He is on the verge of tears. "But I'm not there! Do not you see? "The three agents giggle and look complicit. The third strikes him again. "We take for fools? Eh? Next, say it! "

" No, no! ... I do not take to sc ... "

" Shut up! Watch "The agent 2 is crawling on the table and still another picture under his nose. It portrays a surgeon with instruments and shirts. Seems to have just removed the mask and satisfied smiles, as if he had successfully concluded an operation. "You recognize him? Well, actually we should not ask, but today we are more patient than usual. "The man looks stupid and shakes his head, tears now moisten the collar. Another shot him there, this time behind the head. The third grabs him by the hair, immediately pulls back her head and whispered: "Come on, Prisley make this job a little 'easier. Speak, admit that this is the surgeon you have remade the face. "The second involved. "Bern 1997. It tells you nothing? "The man continues to sway his head, dazed and spends himself in constant mourning. "I ... I do not call Prisley. My name Kudok. And I have forty years, as you say, there are only thirty-one. And I'm American, not Belarus, Christ! Want to know? "The agent first gets up. The light is still preventing di carpirne l’identità. “Ascoltate, stiamo perdendo tempo. Non ci resta che torturarlo e vedere fin dove regge. Anche non fosse lui, dovremmo comunque disfarcene, ormai ci ha visti.” L’agente 3 si gira verso di lui. “Hai ragione, attacchiamolo a quel cazzo di muro e vediamo se dopo un paio di estrazioni dentarie si convince.” L’uomo valuta per un secondo e agisce con inaspettata animosità. Infila la mano con precisione micidiale sotto la giacca del terzo. Ha notato poco prima, mentre aggirava la scrivania, lo scintillio della pistola sotto il vestito. La estrae con disinvoltura e fa fuoco centrando l’agente 3 all’addome. Quello si accascia e strilla a ripetizione. L’uomo punta l’arma the other two. Shoot at random. The light goes off in an explosion, a body falls. Prisley runs to the door, the blind, the darkness around him like a shroud. This can open, he sees a glimmer of light that illuminates the agent 1. It 'still, in front of him. E 'Greg Sylvian, who possessed the piercing eye from side to side with a spur. Centered a kidney. Man loses all contact with reality. It falls on all fours, groping, unable even to scream. Immediate numbness invests. Press trigger them, does not know how many times. The bullets bounce does not know where. His last hope is that he brought with him the son of a bitch.

TRACCIA 5 – COLLISIONI mATEMATICHE

La ragazza calva è sdraiata su un logoro giaciglio adornato da foglie d’alloro secche. Le voci di alcuni venditori ambulanti l’hanno tenuta sveglia tutto il tempo. Lascia vagare lo sguardo lungo le pareti della capanna di fango dove si trova. La superficie è irregolare dovunque, anche nel pavimento di terra battuta dove cresce un ciuffo d’erba ribelle che a Baba non è riuscito di estirpare. Indossa un saio nuovo, donatole dal suo ospite. Si alza and warns that a strong turning forces her to sit. Wait a few minutes and massage your feet and shoulders. The hair are growing back, or so it seems. Sente read tips protrude from the skull, but still seem to be an eternity to the same length. It was agreed to and exit from the refuge wary and disoriented. It is located on a dirt road besieged by countless stalls of a market in the Middle East. The buyers will gather at the desks and screaming addressed to merchants, who in turn contract with unfailing patience. A mound of earth and took over the houses stands that surround the street. And 'huge, tens of meters high and surrounded by swarms of flies in the grip of their morbid rut from dung. Baba said that he would go the temple and do not dare think that will be that the goal of his reconnaissance. He stops at an arms dealer and buy a boat with a little money rimastile. E 'bill of primitive but highly functional and is sharp. There is a growing among the people and reaching out to grab some lame about her trying to tear her dress. They look like without skin, perhaps victims of some cruel torture. Li avoids rapid and allows himself a moment's peace path of slipping into a hole, wide right for one person. A woman leans from a window above her and put on a wire skin a cat. He sees her and smiles. She escapes and ends up mired in chaos again. Other hand touch it, belt, pinch and can not find spreaders that persecute hidden in the crowd. Ends randomly in a square and get more free walking in front of a big store. A barker obese and sweaty slaves sold at low prices. They are exposed in a row, naked and trembling seized with concern. Some are children and the only woman who is an old emaciated, mercilessly exposed, try to cover the private parts. Buyers button, the goods with the bluntness that would reserve to beasts of burden. The merchant will not stop talking for a moment. "Buy, dirty young cow, buy the dregs of serving asshole! Get paid minions, lackeys make yourself without risk of betrayal! Give importance and prestige, herd of yokels without dignity, "and all potential buyer kneel at the feet of the fat bouncer praying to be offended. Some roll in the sand of the square asking filthy physical humiliation, but two dark-skinned men flanking them away in the obese weight. She notes with dismay that the buyer is replaced sold to the slave and servant is whipped by one of the villagers blacks with unprecedented violence and blood sodomized the other. Treatment excite the crowd enough to push many to rape the crowd. The bald you notice too late for the beating ritual that is emerging, and two hands grab her from behind. He feels a huge penis into the anus and get you screaming seized with painful contractions. Rotate the spear in hand, turning point all’indietro e sferra un colpo preciso. Liquido caldo le investe la schiena, sente un urlo strozzato e un corpo pesante la schiaccia a terra crollandole addosso. Striscia nella sabbia, che le riempie bocca, naso e orecchie. Tossisce, annaspa, qualcuno le calpesta una mano ma resiste al patimento. Si allontana carponi dalla ressa e cerca riparo sotto la tenda di una bottega. Il turbinio della gente che si assale, si schiaccia e si avventa sull’emporio ricorda un termitaio dato alle fiamme. “Incredibile, vero?” La ragazza sussulta e istintivamente porta la lancia davanti a sé, ma solo ora si rende conto di averla abbandonata sul corpo del suo aggressore. Un uomo sulla trentina, con una grossa cicatrice sul labbro e con due incisivi rotti la osserva e le sorride. E’ vestito molto elegante, è di bell’aspetto e sembra avulso dal contesto che li circonda. “Chi sei?”

“Sono Prisley. E’ un piacere vederti. Baba mi aveva detto che saresti venuta in questa zona, ma mi sono ricordato solo all’ultimo che ogni martedì in questa piazza c’è la vendita di schiavitù e sono venuto a cercarti.” La ragazza lo perlustra con gli occhi e si trova attratta da quell’individuo. Si ricompone anche se sa di essere coperta di polvere e sangue. “Io sono Auge.”

“So chi sei. Mi piacerebbe parlare ancora per conoscerci, ma è meglio che ci muoviamo. Seguimi e tienimi la mano, non mollarmi mai.” Le porge la mano e lei la prende senza fiatare. “E soprattutto fidati di me, intesi?” Lei fa cenno di avere compreso, con sguardo quasi infantile e si avviano nel caos che li imprigiona a margine della piazza. Avanzano molto lentamente e l’uomo la porta lontano da un gruppo di pezzenti che si contendono una donna sfregiata tirandola, ognuno per un arto. Un capannello di beduini coperti da vesti scure li fermano per chiedere l’acquisto della donna calva e Prisley li ignora. Uno di loro gli punta una lama in faccia, ma lui prosegue imperterrito. Auge gli si fa più vicina. “Come puoi essere così avventato? Lo hai ignorato come fosse stato un innocuo bambino.” L’uomo the sideways glances. "I pushed a mirror under his cloak. Here are a rarity, I do not bother us anymore. "The girl fell silent and think about how much time has passed since the last time I looked at her reflection. Is swept along the streets, beyond the square. The chaos is passing away and the stands are more sporadic. The mound is now more closely and can see details from the first hidden away. The surface of the huge cone that stands in the middle of the medina is full of narrow slits and a number of them dense smoke rose colored, perhaps the result of burning incense exotic. Mists of insects create arabesques in the air e si raggruppano a folate successive, creando forme misteriose, lettere, rune e caratteri in cirillico che stordiscono le membra di Auge, persa e ipnotizzata. La sua testa ciondola e gli occhi sono fissi su una figura rinchiusa in una gabbia a dieci metri d’altezza, appesa a una trave fissata fuori da una delle aperture. Sembra un uomo magrissimo e dalle gambe eccezionalmente filiformi. I soli polpacci sporgono, ma bastano per superare la lunghezza di un arto normale. La sagoma del capo è nascosta dall’ombra che copre il fondo della cella. Ormai sono a ridosso del torrione. Per duecento metri di raggio attorno alla costruzione il terreno è privo di edifici e capanne. Il vorticoso viavai di gente che si incrocia sulle vie che convergono nel tumulo dalle four cardinal directions remembers the constant pilgrimage to a place of worship. Auge sights packed with families with carts below on junk of all shapes and arranged in a mo 'walking home, the old monks soaked in vitriol, so disfigured to look like dummies, rubber, adulterous women without breasts proudly displaying scars unclean and thirteen caught by hounds are rutting unstoppable rub on passers-by. It 'a vision so singular, as drunk and the girl feels sometimes freeze, sometimes boiling over-the soul of emotional input. The man dragged her, his hand information serves as a hex-free umbrella and secreting sticky molasses. One of them entered and greedy swallows waves of dummies with no eyes, nose and mouth smell them, lick them and square them pimps. They are identical to the figure that hung leaning against the bars of his cell in the air. They are smooth as erect penis and rubbing their heads shapeless plastic collision produces noise and stench of crude oil. Es'impossessano are a multitude of pilgrims at the entrance with the arrogance of a queen bee drones on and unprotected sex. "Where we are, Prisley, where ...?" He stops to remove it from the embrace of a huge dummy, five meters high and equipped with huge arms. The tugs and pulls away, digging in the tumult that is stirred in spirals unpredictable. The fixed folle di desiderio. “Ci sono tredici ragioni per cui dovrei amarti, ma nessuna basta a sacrificarmi in settantuno parti di fecola indefessa come sedici e più statue di cenere che cadono al sole e si disseccano oltre il patio, in quella dimora che non ricordi ma che è ben scolpita nella mia mente.” Sangue a fiotti cola dalle sue narici, gli lorda le guance rase di fresco, la camicia griffata e la cravatta sgualcita, la giacca impolverata dal deserto e il setto nasale deviato in quella partita a hockey sul prato del giardino pensile di villa Guascone e un dito oblungo, privo di unghia e impronta digitale, lo stronca da dietro e così inaspettatamente che Auge strilla forte abbastanza da spolparsi i polmoni con vernice di vetroresina.

Greg mouth away from the microphone. Anxious glances toward the cold wall tank soundproofed. A voice reaches him, as expected. "Let's make this last bridge, it was a shit, Greg. I hope you agree. "Sylvian headphone system on its head and oversee the lip singing.