Thursday, August 19, 2010

Undigested Food Stool

Photos, Chapter 2.


Raiting : Orange

Genre: Slash, yoai

Pairing: Francesco x Ethienne

Nb , I changed the settings so that even anonymous can comment. Your opinion would make me very happy:) The only courtesy that I ask is to sign them. Thanks in advance!

Chapter 2

Ethienne - Afternoons extemporaneous

There are afternoons - evenings like this, where the rain never seems to end and the library is filled with light gray - in which I find myself considering how far we have come in these three years.

how much fear we have passed together.

Fear of suffering. The fear of being sick. The fear of choking. The fear of betrayal. The fear of the distance. Fear of disease. Fear of dreams. The fear of happiness. The fear of life. The fear of ourselves.

are only photographs, instantaneous moments when the world has taken a different direction, and every time I find myself amazed to see how everything this is extraordinary, Francis.

As you are extraordinary.

not you've ever noticed, but then how could you? You are so lenient with yourself.

And it's not false modesty, is your very special form of altruism, which brings you to give more and more. Are you a world free of gravitational attraction and the laws of physics, an 'all-new invention. Understanding how it works has not been easy, but slowly I managed to get at least close.

Maybe that's why sometimes I'm still afraid to see you go.

Like this morning when I hugged you. You hold me tight so strong that the outside world ceased to exist, I thought for one minute that could be you and me, and that's it.

Without the urban chaos outside - without the motor running and the machinery behind the exhaust pipes, without the zebra trapped on the streets and the people who trample with heels, moccasins, children's shoes, wheels pushchairs, soles worn.

Could be you and me. Living in restricted circle of an embrace with the dissonances and heart to nourish the soul to wash each time.

But then our mutual existences they called us we went to live in the dimensions of our customary chaos. And now, despite being passed only a few hours, I can feel the absence of your smile.

Or maybe not, nor is it your smile. It 's the soft line of your cheekbones, the gentleness with which it digs in your cheek - the fluidity with which change according to your moods.

And then there Regular treatment of the neck, the gentle curve of the Adam's apple.

A set of irregular details.

- Ethienne, soon come the children.

Linda's voice takes me back to the current reality. For now. Strange how the splitting of the time, no?

Now a word is saturated with relativity. Like all the rest.

Linda looks at me from behind round glasses owl.

It 'pretty, her. He has his hair like the boys, skirts and door of colored cloth that revolve around his legs with every step. Do you like - but you do not count, you love people too much to give an objective opinion about the individual.

- Yes, yes, sorry. Today I have a little 'head in the clouds.

And now Linda is that smile. What reserves the children when they touch the heart, swollen with love, as if the feelings pulsars against his lips and he could not hold it in any way. It 's a sweet smile from Mom.

mother of a child that there is, its concave belly bears the marks of a difficult past.

- Think Francesco eh?

you know everything, but no prejudices, and not one of those people who hide behind the frivolous excesses. Just treat us as human beings we are, with the same air of imperturbable good.

Who knows what's under the guise of Linda. If it is the emptiness of his bones protruding to have them dug so deep eyes, for having stolen the light.

- Mh mh. This morning was very sweet. - That's all I can say. Hate summarized in adjectives, do not make enough.

- Well, it's not in love with your handsome prince? - She says, raising his arm to place a book on the shelf - I mean. Do not think I've ever seen anyone with eyes in my entire life.

The mention fairy makes me smile, perhaps beneath the ashes of a bad story can still grow something. But there is one point on which I dwell, you know, I hate to force people to open up with me. So the question arises:

- What eyes?

And the book stops in midair, while the expression a bit 'surprised Linda meets mine.

- Come on, you tell me that you never noticed? - I said smiling.

- Case to what? - I reply, trying not to tangle in the game of words.

She laughs and shakes his head falls off the ladder and bangs his hands, one against each other, to free them from the accumulated dust.

- I look like I'm the sun, Ethienne. As if you depended on the movement of entire universe.

I can not help smiling.

Because you love me I know, but hear it from others is always a bit swollen 'my little, silly vanity. Slide in a second of pure glory that I feel truly the center of the universe, before the shouting of the children I bring back to reality.

The teacher Anna comes out of breath after taking twenty-two wild beasts. All with their blue apron, ready to destroy what little order that Linda and I we were able to recreate.

Anna joins Linda, with her hands on her hips and his face worn.

- They could not wait to come here today. - Claims, before turning and smiling to me.

I spare, then I turn to my small audience.

Their eyes follow a scale of gradation shades vast irregular.

Staring at me and expect me to offer them something, a reading, a drawing, a poem. Whatever.

- Why do not we play a game? - Ask them, sitting down on a plastic yellow chairs child size - Take a chair and let us all in a circle, come on.

obey me in the grip of some kind of form of reverence, perhaps because they see me closer to them, because they are too far away from the body of mature teacher Anna and incomprehensible sadness of Linda.

- Very good ... now I start to tell a story. Then when I interrupt you continue, and then you, and so on, until we reach the end. Does not have to travel around in a circle eh. Linda writes the story so then reread all together.

I see their eyes light up and then short-circuit, such as Christmas tree lights. And so, dressed in their serenity, I start to tell.

- There was once a prince who had never seen snow ...

Francis shook his hand trying to dissipate the smoke coming out of the oven.

coughed a few times, but with a 'hopeless task trying to save what remained of the cake when it threw on the table instead of the wonderful donut that there should have been there * a strange cluster scorched in several places, however, that smelled so unpleasant.

looked Ethienne, who sat across the kitchen, looking very spirited.

- I'm sorry - he murmured in a low voice, unable to restrain dall'arrossire - I've never been good at cooking.

A Ethienne did not matter much, really. Not even he could cook, was limited to occasionally open a can of tuna salad or a bag ready, the food of divine providence. At that moment, then it was more stunned by the sight of the red cheeks of Francis from the rest.

He had never understood that behind the polite guy actually there was also a devastating timidity: and now that I discovered, slowly, it seemed each day more beautiful.

Even with his nose dirty with flour and her hair behind her head, scowling as he stared at the cake came out wrong.

- Never mind - said Ethienne happy, standing. - Indeed, I have an idea. Why do not we take a pizza and a bowl of ice cream? Not even equipment.

Francis glanced out the window, the sky was so white it hurts the eyes, left bode well.

- I think it will rain soon. - Said in a low voice.

- Take an umbrella! - Rang the cheerful boy, standing up. Francis turned to look at and had all their ingenuity typical of childhood: you noticed in every step, every move he did.

- Better not. We take the car.

At that point, his eyes glow Ethienne issued a vaguely left, as he slipped the jacket asked treason

- You make me drive?

How could Francis say no? On the other hand we had the pink sheet. It certainly was not a qualified driving instructor, but could not get that bad right?

This gave him the keys. His heart was startled when he saw the boy's face filled with joy.

It was a fun afternoon.

Ethienne proved to be a bad driver, and preferred to return to lead Francis, who had gone on to take only two pizzas and a bowl of ice cream, came home with three shopping bags saturated crap to fill the refrigerator.

Francis normally would be considered too large for this kind of things would look from a distance with reluctance, calling her a fool if you let peer carried by many futility.

Ethienne But the world changed flavor. The views were exchanged, and everything was simpler, with him did not feel the need to justify if it was himself.

They sat in front of two pizzas in the oven heated to perfection.

Ethienne wanted to drink beer, but because of his minority Francis propina a Coca-Cola, having fun, sipping a Heineken in front of his eyes.

Outside, meanwhile, had begun to rain.

- What do you miss France? - Francis had asked suddenly.

The youngest was placed near the fork to the plate, and had paused to think about it.

- Snow. - Had said then.

- Snow?

- Yes. Here in Italy ... and it rarely snows here in Rome ever, at least according to what I said Theo. Instead, in Paris when it was still snowing in the winter. It was a show, you know?

was the first time that Francis saw his eyes fill with sadness, that he missed so much, his house?

- I do not know. Theo was right, I do not remember ever having seen snow here in Rome. Unless some random bogey once in a while. There was a huge snowstorm when I was a kid, but I was too young to remember.

Then Ethienne watched with both raised eyebrows;

- Are you saying you've never seen snow?!

Francis blushed again, wiping his mouth with his napkin. She shook her head awkwardly.

- No. I've never even been in the mountains.

For a moment, Ethienne stood looking at him. Then he smiled, saying nothing.

With a face vaguely stupid, that he does not know whether to attribute to compassion or tenderness.

- Look, you need not look at me that way. It is not my fault that we have in Rome near the seaside resorts! My parents had a house in Ostia and we went on vacation there every year, even at Christmas. And it's not so unusual, and ...

- Turn around.

Frank raised an eyebrow, but Ethienne looked confident.

- Turn around. - Repeated, seraphic.

When the boy turned to the window, stared in amazement. Black fell from the sky what looked like huge grains of sugar.

His heart shook with emotion as he watched Rome around him filled with snow. Quickly as it had never happened.

Francis found himself thinking it was a miracle. A true miracle.

Only when he felt the arms of Ethienne girding him gently life and his chin resting on his shoulder, he realized that his miracle we had near daily.

- ... and the Black Knight then jumped off the horse and the princess cut off his head!

- But the princess his head turned away because it was magical, and the good fairy turned the black knight in a cow!

Clap your hands trying to stop the flow of imaginative children. They turned and looked, with their faces and red cheeks excited emotion.

For a moment I envy them, I would go back to that age. Or maybe not, because back at that Jared would relive over and meet you later, too late.

A breath of cool air caresses my back, when the door closes behind me accompanied by the trill of harp. I feel my cheeks go to fire.

you, love?

- Okay, we've created a beautiful story! Now for the next time each of you draw a scene from the story, the teacher Anna will tell you how. Let's take a bell'urlo all together?

My suggestion is warmly welcomed, and so I cling to the children and we all run together toward the center of the circle with a nice scream. Then the little figures in blue disperse to go back their portfolios in the classroom.

And when I finally see you around.

You have two inverted crescents instead of eyes, smile and look at me, standing in the doorway.

The tips of your hair is darkened by the rain, as well as the shoulders of your raincoat and your pants should also be sunk in any puddle.

Still the same smile, quiet. Is it because you love the rain.

I turn around and seeking the consent of Linda, I liquid with one hand and a smile smart, there's no child that could make "yuck " in front of a kiss, I'm free to meet each other and hold you tight as I want.

You've got the smell of rain.

your cheek against my cold triggers a thrill that slides along the back, I want to bite like a fruit.

- Love, you have time! - It's stupid that the only comment I would make. You support the briefcase next to you, taking off his raincoat.

- Mh mh, the boss let me go first. He says he is very satisfied with the catalogs that we are doing in the lab, and that if we continue like we will soon have some free days.

satisfied smile, rubbing his hands together to warm them. You have your fingers red with cold.

Your hands are so delicate that the risk of ruining all the time. I take in my breath over there and warm them for a while ': your answer is a kiss on the forehead, the nose rubbing against my hair. Like a cat.

- It would be great. Maybe we go somewhere, what do you say?

- It would not hurt. I have to see if I can even get away from the Academy, though.

Ah, yeah. The Academy.

My main source of concern. I will also open-minded, yes, but you know that you are jealous as hell. And I do not care if those are artists and they see only your body as an object, or if you do to make ends meet and pay the rent and now I'm here and you're mine and that's it.

But this I can not tell you, I let the beast of jealousy stirred within me.

takes my hands and puts on a kiss, erasing any fear.

Love can not be your most beautiful face.

You are the prelude to every artist, the ecstasy of the first brush stroke on the white canvas, is on your profile that runs the light, is your smile that comes the Stendhal syndrome **. You're something too beautiful, too devastating to be included A total of consciousness and fulfillment.

- Linda, I can kidnap him?

You turn to Linda, who now fills the files sitting on your desk.

She looks up and sees us. And I can think of that song by Baptists, one that makes Balla, Linda, as you are beautiful ...

It is a pity that Linda is not dancing. It 's a shame that Linda is not alive, that his gracious presence here, has been forgotten by selfishness of two lovers. Almost sorry.

Do you understand it and you turn to her asking her permission - making her feel important.

And she takes off her glasses and rubs his eyes, before nodding his face weary but good-natured;

- Sure, sure. In fact, you are still here?!

gives his consent, and we run away, careful not to get wet, even if your umbrella is too small and not well protected even you, imagine if two of us.

The door of the car tells me that I came away, from here on will be solo una guerra coi semafori, che io combatterò al coperto, con te vicino.

Appoggi la mano sul cambio e metti in moto; io mi prendo il lusso di stringerti il polso, così, solo per avere ancora un po’ di contatto con te.

- Ha chiamato Lele, prima.

Sei concentrato sulla strada; segui il percorso prestabilito attento a non uscire dalle righe. Una volta o l’altra però dovremmo fare una corsa, io e te.

Non in una strada asfaltata, in un qualche campo di grano e fiori. Una corsa a piedi nudi challenging ourselves, and then read a book in the shade of a tree. So, to get out of the ordinary - to depart the disturbing mechanisms citizens.

I know it should not be done, but I lean to give you a kiss on the cheek. You turn your head just enough to divert the lips, and then forced me again to go back to my place.

- What did he say? - I find myself wondering. Because words are the only thing that prevents me at this moment to kiss you again, again and again.

hijack out of traffic and bring in our parallel universe.

And I understand that it is the same for you the way you bite your lips - the one where you hold your hand on the wheel.

- He asked if we want to go to dinner with him and Theo tonight. He said he plans to cook English dishes and do not know what it wants to try at all.

- If it's for a meal goes well. Just do not plan to kidnap you to make the model for his drawings!

Smile. This bit of jealousy you like, you undeniable.

- So after ritelefono and say that it's okay.

berths in the house, bring the gear in neutral and put the handbrake. The annoying radio chatter when you turn the key off the dial, the machine stops living with a last shot of the windshield wipers.

The path of the car at the gate that separates us is short but tortuous. It is not the presence of obstacles, since the proximity of each other.

E 'I feel the electricity running between us, this I want to make love with you.

It 's a pulse of an ancestral ancient violence, to kiss, a worm gnawing insistent that bites me and my depth. The current thinking is followed by a one-sided.

Back to the old comparison of the drug, a stereotype is always working, and you, you are my preferred form of heroin. I feel the thought of you traveling in intravenously into the gridded map of my arteries to reach the brain with an overwhelming impulse.

stunned me.

As soon as I close the door, I run to look for your lips. And now I find - they are the breath of life that hold the wet surface.

I feel the jacket fall to the ground with a thud, your nails t-shirt on his back while running away.

Sitting on the couch, let me tie her legs around your hips, and while I hold her face in her hands that whispers - are here - pointing the finger on the heart.

It is a sentence, a magical chorus. Why I love the use it all we needed were only our words, that only we could repeat.

you are here.

And if I hold strong, with how much power you can feel your essence vibrates inside of me.

* Ciambellone : I'm not sure that the name is the same in all ' Italy, is a dessert that is made with the mixture of sponge cake, a kind of giant donut that can be filled in various ways, with cream, chocolate, or even both. On the tendency is to put the vanilla.

** Stendhal Syndrome; syndrome is that, in art, take pictures in front of people, ie, when one considers the astonishing beauty of a painting to the point of feeling in a physical manner and usually passes out.



Licenza Creative Commons
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution - Noncommercial - No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License .

Monday, August 16, 2010

How Many Caories Can You Burn With A Sweat Suit

Pictures, Chapter 1.




Raiting; orange

Genre; slash, yaoi

Pairing: Francis x Ethienne

Nb : this is the song referenced in the chapter



Chapter 1

Francis - I'm ready, I'm fine.



There are things about you that I never get used.

One of these, for example, is your sense of pathological disorder, I can not explain why everything is a hymn to chaos, in our room.

I always blamed it to your artistic soul, but in fact I think yours is just laziness, or perhaps carelessness. You forget things easily.

So I'm sitting on the bed looking at the jeans that you left on the ground, dropped his shirt on the wardrobe door, and the shoes left under the drawers. There is still a towel in your lap, you've had a shower yesterday and I even went to him to fix it.

Sometimes it seems to me to look after a child. And deep down you are, God You just twenty years.

But I am dangerously close to thirty, and I do not like even a little '- even if you continue to spoil me and fill me with compliments.

It seems like every year is a constraint in addition: dramatically increases the sense of suffocation.

In those moments I think to tie the knot, what I do every morning.

It 's a stupid thing, after all: a series of repetitive gestures and automatic and a tight end around his neck, as a noose. But then you're always in the evening to loosen.

It 's the first thing you do when I get home - you get close, give me a kiss, and melt all the nodes.

If I were to describe our relationship in some way, Ethienne, I would use these exact words, loosen the knots. I still can not comprehend the patience with which you took care of me, the love with which you stay beside me. The visceral way you walked into me.

And to think of it all my non - habits, all of your imbalances are basically the thing that holds us together. The lifeblood of our relationship.

- Love, not that you give me a ride eh?

you look out your door and interrupt my every thought, in the usual way impetuous and lacking in manners. But the joy you put in the little things makes it hard not to forgive me at all times, even the most stupid.

Smiling so it's a natural reflex. You're standing there with a pair of jeans and a shirt with short sleeves clear, regardless of the cold, your hair is uncombed and the line of the north around the mouth.

The line of the north.

Like the first time I kissed you - the first time I heard the size of your lips cracked on impact with the mine.

- You're late again, eh? - The application takes care of itself, without any ridicule. It 's a simple fact of habit, to which he answers with a tongue.

- not my fault! And 'the clock in the kitchen is ten minutes back.

- There you have it made, Ethienne. Because of reverse psychology, right? If you see the clock that goes backwards, you do not know what is the real time and you have to run. - I find myself having to explain. I was sure you would have forgotten, but you would not listen to me.

you give yourself a pat on the forehead, as if to kill a thought too much, and I just want to hug you. Just like that

Just because you're you, because you have rough lips. Let the clothes on the floor. Move the clock and then forget it.

A combination of improbability.

Gripping your pile of bones against my chest, and breathe the smell of your hair.

I can feel your heart beat so. All my life running silent and mechanics under the hood of skin, dancing in the blood.

- What is it morning? Excess teneritudine morning?

Teneritudine is the name you gave to our every impulse of affection, and I let you choose you, because basically I are fine. I love to hear you say - the way that your tongue to push against you on the round r.

- Mmm, maybe.

I look with your eyes full of questions, and I'd love to know what goes through your head now, you have that expression indecipherable saturated with nostalgia every time you pierce your face. And it is useless to ask " you?" Why can not reply to these questions.

You have a heart that is been kicked too many times and I find it hard, give yourself to someone.

But I keep waiting, because thou hast healed me and I will heal you. And I do not care how long it will take.

- Come on, come on who else comes even later - I force myself to say. I open my arms and I let you fly.

You thank me with a smile and hide in the leather jacket. My.

But I squeeze in a raincoat I really like a perfect English gentlemen, you gave me you, saying, it was perfect. And I learned to really make it perfect to use as a second skin.

We go in September as car fleeing from the rain, the comfort of the seats allows us to catch our breath for a moment.

- Damn that time! And we are not even in October! - You complain, shaking his head. But I am concerned because the leather jacket will not save you from some disease, you would not even put on a sweater, and already I see you in bed with fever.

- You've covered enough.

You rolled his eyes, annoyed. I know it will bother my endless nagging, but I do not know how to explain that everything moves in light of the fact that I love you.

You lean forward to avoid any kind of reply, fiddling with the radio channel hopping channel disturbed by the buzzing of the stations in this weather does not want to learn to find peace.

And then comes a song. Any. We exchange a quick glance, while the notes in the air own plan.

around us disappears and the machine seems to go back over time, any day of three years ago.

Ethienne cursed book of geometry.

Not only could not concentrate, but he could not even understand any of what was written. Seemed to him a set of words and formulas Ostrogothic stupid - put there at random letters to make his life difficult.

He muttered a few curses in French tight, with one click away from your desk. Do not take it anymore from nervous.

Just days earlier he had quarreled with Frank, and his words kept bouncing horribly on his head, spreading echoes redundant.

Yet it had seemed so perfect, a week before.

Francis went to him and kissed him. He had a strong close, running his hands through his hair, running along the spine. The world had seemed still and full of perfect balance.

But two days time, and Francis was again closed in on itself, hiding behind some kind of alibi. He told Ethienne of being wrong, it was not fair delude ourselves.

that he was not able to love anyone.

Ethienne, then, had only wanted him to swallow all his words. Cut with violence on his chest, burning in the back. Make him feel the exact same pain he felt.

What was the fight for someone who refused to heal?

rested an elbow on the wood, using his hand to support the front. He was tired, burning eyes.

Perhaps he had to call Theo, or Lele. Hear what they had to advise them, but did not feel, to break with his problems in the bubble of happiness that friends were painstakingly rebuilt. Talking with others was impractical, that there was a lot of excitement in the air, that every word would have been too much.

sighed, turning over a pencil in hand.

If only it had been good at writing - if he had been able to put his feelings on paper. Maybe he could have said all over that block that prevented him from comment.

was going to seriously consider the idea when the phone vibrated, detaching it from his thoughts.

The sachet of yellow flashing SMS just above the words "Francis."

Ethienne thought for a moment to ignore the text messages and turn off the phone, but he did not and instead opened the message, focusing on the few words that were written.

You can come to me? I need to talk.

- cheek! - Muttered the boy, throwing a mobile phone near the pen.

is also expected that he would get up? That would run like a madman for half of Rome, took the subway, got on the bus and would precipitate in his house and knocked and heard her words merciless?

The cell phone vibrated again, earning glares from Ethienne.

Part of him was determined to not want to read the message, but it was too much in the minority than the rest.

I know I'm asking much, but I need you to come here. I would be me, but I can not move what I need.

Ethienne raised an eyebrow, silently considering the idea that Francis was made of crack. But puffing, he answered with a curt Ok.

left the house only after you have left a note to Anna, where the left word where he was going and what he thought of staying out. Would return soon, according to his intentions.

And then he went out, giving himself to traverse the city.

He liked to live in Rome. Although it was chaotic, it was also a rather picturesque city, rich in history. There was a certain poetry in the way they moved the people, one in which directional things: he had a different flavor.

Arriving at the home of Francis demanded a lot 'of time, but it passed quickly enough with the headphones of' I-Pod in the ears, between subway and buses.

At your destination, Ethienne paused to wonder if he was doing the right thing.

House Francis had always made a strange awe, it was a big house and cold, all in shades of gray and white. Ordered to capacity, full of dust in some places. Was a little 'soul of the sleeping boy.

However, the younger one was brave. That is a big sigh and said with a solemn air drama, he rang the bell.

No one answered; automatic tripping of the door caught him by surprise.

He climbed the stairs in a hurry, running near the wrought iron railing careful not to fall; when he arrived at the front door of the apartment there was not anybody yet.

Ethienne he was afraid.

Strange to say, but he was really scared, the last time he found himself in a situation like that, Jared was waiting for him with a crowbar with a group of friends homophobic.

There was something in the door in the dark and in all that silence that reminded him of all the damn situation.

And if Francis had expected the other side ready to hurt him?

If he wanted to hurt him as he had Jared, or worse?

In a quick instant, Ethienne wondered if Francis could be like David. What would have happened if he had touched the same fate as Lele?

But then a little voice inside my head suggested that Francis was not so.

It was not really able to hurt a person - at least not voluntarily.

He pushed the door, leaning inside. There was a dim light coming from the living room.

Ethienne approached cautiously, his heart pounding in my chest.

- Francis? - Called, feeling the excitement grow.

- I'm here! - Replied a voice, exactly where it came from the light.

The boy grew up, stopping on the threshold of the room.

There was something different about it all. Less dust. More color.

There was Francis supported the table - a black turtleneck that hugged her body and a pair of jeans cut elegant. Her feet were bare.

was beautiful. More than usual.

of an amazing beauty, almost dramatic. The light touched his face as the brush strokes of an artist expert, making his eyes more alive, more harmonious than usual its proportions.

He stood with his arms crossed and smiling looking at it.

That smile made her stomach tighten with Ethienne, who want more hands to remove the last two days and return to the warmth of her room, when they had kissed.

still wanted to feel the heat of his body, the rounded shape of his bones press against her belly, she wanted to get close to him and sank a hand through his hair, tirarglieli, and kiss him without letting either of breathe.

wanted him to die.

- I thought to write. Or talk to you, anyway. - Francis began, breaking the silence filled the huge room.

just fell off the table, dissolving the web of arms.

- ... But I have to do something practical for me to forgive. True. So I thought of calling you here and tell you all what I feel in a way that seems more appropriate.

He came up to him, raising a hand to stroke his face. Ethienne blushed, feeling his fingertips by Francis, who was sinking into her cheeks. Were cold.

raised a hand to trap her, and remained so for a while, to look dazed.

Then Francis took his hand and gently over them.

The smallest was surprised a moment, then turned to look at what the other combination. She saw him from behind, as he shook the white blanket covering what appeared to be a piano, and then, with a single gesture, he pulled away.

The room was filled with dust, with the smell of life for so many years ago.

Ethienne The life of Francis, who did not know, his past, the dance of dust brought back memories that do not belong to him, but the other had still decided to give him.

She watched him sit on a stool and gently lift the keyboard cover.

He pushed a button white, and a note shook violently in the air.

- It 's still in tune. - Francesco muttered with a smile. Then she turned to him:

- Come close to me - he said. Ethienne, noise, obeyed stand behind him.

not sat down, but he merely puts his hand on his shoulder. Francis kissed his fingers, before starting to play.

was a song that the boy was sure to know French, but the title eluded him at the moment.

It seemed extraordinary that a play was, however, Francis was surprisingly good.

The biggest shock, however, was his voice as he sang.

His voice was soft, scratching in the right places, the tone was low, it came to the piano. Ethienne closed his eyes, and it seemed that the voice to lead him along a curve to go very carefully.

Eppure, in qualche modo, sapeva che ne sarebbe uscito salvo.

 

I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am taffy stuck and tongue tied
Stutter shook and uptight
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am fine
I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded and unfolded and unfolding
I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am end

- It was Colorblind, Counting Crows!

The voice of the obnoxious reporter on the radio both us back to reality. I can see you in passing, with one eye, while you shake your shoulders shake off the memories.

But do not turn out well, because it resists a smile on your face - defying time and distance.

The memory of that day in my house is still too vivid.

Dust, piano. Your hand on my shoulder. And the way I have embraced later, clinging to me like you do with the dreams or hopes.

never let go of all these fragments of us.

But we got the tempo of a song and you're already at the school. Now live in the midst of books, games with the kids all the time - maybe that's why your soul is still pure and clear so heartbreaking.

systems better than you can tighten the jacket around your neck, your hands are trying to tighten and give you a defense against the outside world.

But not enough, we both know.

You lean towards me demanding a kiss with your usual smile.

- 'Can you pass me to take next? - You ask me, with that your face smart.

- I do not know. Today is Thursday, which means that the boss holds the office until at least five.

Puffs, and I know you'd be cursing my head but you do not, because you can never take it with anyone.

So I make a promise indirect, taking off the scarf of cloth and tying it around your neck. It 's my way to protect yourself, to keep you warm.

look at me eyes wide and gave me another kiss on his lips, which I take as if it were nectar.

You do not know how much life from me.

- If you do not see you later see you tonight! - Murmur, before escaping out of the car.

Risks almost falling, in the heat, but not you do it and laugh. And as you turn to shut the door, I lose a:

- I love you!

said so in passing. And there's no comparison, no poetry, nothing that could tell your expression in this moment - all the adjectives in the world could not fill the dimple that comes from your grateful smile.

- Me too! - I scream back, before fleeing.

're late and beat the time, even this morning.

But I do not care that time, standing by until the last moment when you leave and enter the door of the school.

A frail, thin figure dressed in black with a red scarf around his neck.





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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution - Noncommercial - No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License .

Wedding Tamil Kavithai Cards

Short and meaningful premise.



So.
If you arrived here, is a sign that you have followed
Every Me, Every You , if you have not done Simply click on the link to read the whole story. This space was created as alternative media, and when I started writing, I did not think I would have left much implication. For me, then, this story has become a sort of world apart which I'm interested in dissecting the implications, investigate every minor character and care for it. If you want to follow me in this undertaking, it can not make me nothing but pleasure. :)
What you will find here everything is written in my hand and we would keep it to remain that, so I will publish everything under Creative Commons License. It never happened to be brainwashed, but rather in doubt take precautions.
Another important thing to clarify now, most of Side Emey are high homoerotic, others talk about heavy topics, and not always in a language quietly. The raiting for obvious reasons is high, you'll find it at the top of each chapter.
If anyone, then, should feel disturbed in some way, I release you from any responsibility in that each chapter will present before the notice of the content.
That said, thank infinitely to those who have decided to follow me in this endeavor.
soon,

Moth.


Thursday, July 22, 2010

How To Install Izotope Vocal Eraser

Still Learn From My Cat

You know how cats are made. If see a small area that lies over an area more 'big you have to sit on. Do you have a sweater on the couch? Cat above. A lid of a shoebox just resting on the ground? Cat above. So while you have breakfast
if a placemat using the cat comes and sits on, there 'nothing to surprise.
Even if we do nails, even the 'you know what it' that works: If the fabric is' just a bit 'rough' practically an invitation for the cat. If
then a little noise scares the cat, well, can 'happen, you know that cats taking over nothing.
So if the nail of the cat remains stuck in the mat and the cat in the run down the bowl of breakfast and Coffee 'will pay on your white pants when you were already' a bit 'late, and the cup falls to the ground and breaks, not' you can blame the cat.
You could also do without breakfast placemat.
No, no cat no.