Me lit one. It was cold. I wanted to keep both hands in his pockets, warm, however one of the two was freezing. It is not fair, I thought, so I make the rounds ... in his pocket and the other to hold her for a few seconds, then return. Good taste in your mouth, though marred by the slight discomfort in my throat, like a thin needle that poke fun at, to the delight of the damn cold that came along with the unwanted smoke. I was waiting for the tram. I do not like to wait for the tram, but it is better to wait for the bus. Make noise, puffing black smoke, are clumsy, the buses do not like their own. Finally arrived, I had to turn it off, the trip started badly. There was almost no one, perhaps the time a bit 'late, perhaps because everyone had the best about staying at home instead of going around to do damage. Desire to harm, desire for revenge, it was this that had led me instead to leave that night. A fool came up to me telling me that it was Easter and we had to be good otherwise Christ would be pissed off and we would all electrocuted. I told him that there was nothing further of Easter and Christ is always angry for some reason, the spin, the smoke. It may not have digested that one of his betrayed him for a bit 'of chips. That is pulling the cold. Get off at my stop and I was watching the tin can on the track that was attacked by the fog ... I prefer to shoot myself in that way. He lit another. The light of the match was slow to come out, the heat not felt at all. I shrugged and walked down the street, turned into the alley on the right. The stench of garbage He welcomed me wet. Funny how some places seem made just for the scenes that create devon. I went to number 66. By now I was smoking the filter, so I turned off the the wall. The door of the building was only approached, I went. Scale dirty, dripping incessant smell of mold and heated sauce. The elevator was on the ground floor, did not seem very reliable. 13th floor, we thought well, but in the end I went on that trap, will have had at least three times my age. I smiled at the thought that thing was battered less than they want to go that I had. This is the 13th. Actually I did not like at all but automatically I lit another. Hum of the neon light was very hesitant on doing it or not, rubbish bags front of the doors, a faux marble floor now proven moisture. Down the hall was standing still ... the door that I had dragged her here. Inside 9. The scanned instantly. Full of scratches and incomprehensible writings. Do not throw well. I took a breath, then pulled a good kick at the door who gave willingly, it must have been through a lot too. Not any darkness but the darkness with a capital letter waiting for me. You could not see a beloved. It was as if the light of the corridor, although dim, is not able to filter out more than the threshold ... Respect? Perhaps fear of what was inside. There was no trace of the electric light, I'm not surprised. I lit a match true that this time promptly responded to the call. I could not see the details but everything was upside down. Overturned furniture, broken plates and cups, broken table, the pictures, I do not know how, were embedded in the walls. Besides, I was there to teach you some manners. I grabbed a candle sticking out between the pieces and lit it with the last moments of my warm assistant. I turned the corner and walked into what was supposed to be the bedroom. Blood on the walls, but not enough. With the blood had been scribbled. Threw worse. He stood off and good between my lips, I spit on the ground. I slipped a hand into his pocket and felt my package, made me realize of being empty. It did not take ...
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