Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Green with Red flowers

The guy in the motorcycle encouraged me to ride the sand waves so I did. I threw myself right on the sand street and the wind swiftly took me as if I was a vehicle, a naked vehicle riding them. I was covering myself with a towel, bashful, when he asked me to throw it away. I saw the cars coming at me, although they never hit me. I was only naked now, my breasts felt the cold soft sand and my legs tasted little grains trespassing the skin boundaries.
We arrived where the gypsies and their circus tents were. We couldn’t stay since we were running after a woman. She took a taxicab and so did we. It was a pity for the gypsies were welcoming and their tents smelled like curry, incense and indecent sex.
We ran to the street and took a taxicab ourselves. I was then him and touched my tits that now were hers. The taxicab driver looked at us suspiciously through his rear mirror. We arrived in the place where the red elevator was waiting for us, gold and brocades with half closing door. It landed us at a place where the walls had been painted green and beautiful colored plastic flowers hanged from the ceiling in the middle of a brass bed frame. There I saw that woman’s head again. The dirty rag strapped on her eyes.

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