Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Square Dinnerwareblack And White

one name - Short Story

Hello! Step back, hurry, because I have to finish a job and studying part-economy that I have on Saturday. In the end I was better than I expected: '3, and passed the part with 10 ~ ♥, I am happy, hahaha. I leave this short little story I wrote for the workshop and we will see insurance after Saturday =), take care!

Title: "one name"
Author: lonely soul

Genre: General
Couples -
Warnings: No
Date: June 1910 '

http://img143.imageshack.us/img143/2885/porunnombrecopia.jpg

Every night after work, Laura walks to the bus stop. Behind her, a man follows her, every day without fail. She wants to know, know her name, but never encouraged to turn around. Maybe that night, the lucky was another.



Laura was leaving work around twelve o'clock. Some days I was lucky enough to take on a passing a quarter to twelve and often were those who had to wait for the other, which passed later, when the hands caressed the languor of a four. Still, at that time, the darkness was always it and the feeling of loneliness that was installed in his chest as he walked the few blocks that separated from the stop, were a balm of calm that helped him to arrive home refreshed. Laura was not afraid to walk down the street so late, which does not mean that it was cautious in her way. Besides, it was not like travel those streets, alone. That was not the same as saying he was accompanied.
resounded in his ears weary steps of that other night passer. The hollow sound of his footsteps bounced and echoed in the empty cans lying on the wet asphalt, resembling pale stars shine on the dark blackness of the tar and cement. He had never dared to turn heads, but she knew it was there, a few meters along almost mechanically. Curiosity killed the cat killed as a proverb, and yet never, not once, had turned to him. Sometimes, the lights of the lanterns of a car in front of her loss reflects the enormous shadow of a man who hid her completely. At first, the bumps that came off the head of the figure he had drawn attention, until recognized as the wings of a hat, wide and low. «Would plug his face?" He would ask. It was the eternal question which prevented him turned to look.
not remember when I had started that routine. Laura did not care now take the bus of 0:20, because he claimed to have the opportunity to see the man. I used to imagine that stood in the middle of the street, took a deep breath and faced with phrases like: "Is not it nice to walk here?" "Today, once again seem to have forgotten to enter the cat." ... Any excuse was good if he could have the opportunity to speak with him, to look and who knows, maybe even know his name. She loved meeting new people and even had trouble starting a conversation, "he would leave that to his interlocutor, the first words exchanged was definitely something that caused a great impression in it and for the same reason it was difficult to forget. Another thing I liked about these initial contacts, it was time to hear the name of the person you whether he was speaking. She noticed every detail and every little letters that came from the mouth of another, the intonation, the way in which the language was magic in the other to form words and sounds that were in the air to your ears. The smell of air mixed with the morning coffee or lemon salad. Every detail that revolved around a name was engraved in his memory. So if Laura was so anxious, curious and other bears, it was because I wanted to know what it was called that person who always walked on his back every night without fail.
was going to cross the street when the cat is sometimes forgotten, sprang from behind a large trash bag probably cut himself. The shock made her stumble and mind devised a thousand words to curse your bad idea to wear heels that night. Twisted his foot and it was bad, but breaking a shoe ... the truth must have a lot of bad luck. What was not imagined how much.

She had not noticed, but had stopped. Laura had never been arrested in the five blocks he walked all night. Nor was noticed as the boys walked steps closer to her, more and more. Just noticed something when the pain in his ankle began to wane and the man's steps stopped right behind her. She shuddered, shocked and nervous. The opportunity was awaited was no longer knows how many weeks, was being given. For a broken heel. Now no longer seemed such a high price to pay.

tested with the smile turned to a standstill on his face as yellow eternal light of the street. The pain in her foot was nothing compared to what he felt in his stomach when something exploded on him, ripping her blouse. Tearing his skin.

Laura could not see the man's face because, as feared, the wide-brimmed hat covered with shades and carrying mysteries that face as the saying used to say he had killed the curious cat. But no curiosity.

He grabbed him by the elbows, feeling the urgent need to know, now more than ever, what was his name. His lips moved, but the magic of his tongue had lost in the lake of blood on her dancing. He tried again, without trying to make the air passes through your throat, mouth moving just as firmly that the tremor in his body allowed.

"Your name", seemed to say, it. His eyes open wide as the madness and absurdity took possession of his body. It was absurd to ask something so gross to he who kills you. But apparently, the man had made a grace enough to answer.

The hat flew off his head when he crashed into her cheek. Warm lips and smeared the ecstasy of death beat Laura's ear hypnotizing and bringing some peace to his death. A peace laughable being that ... well, I was dying.

The man's mouth moved and hit the strings with his tongue from his throat, smiling. Once again, the dark city took his name.

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