It's freezing cold outside, and home it feels like a summer night. Silence has taken over the air, and I think that tomorrow it's Ann's birthday and we'll go out and celebrate the unstoppable direction of time. I like to think of a young woman full of life, maybe 21 year old, the skin obscenly fresh hiding the meat of a juicy white peach. I'd like to eat it now, because whenever I have the chance to spend a few days with my girlfriend, and then I come back to loneliness, whenever that happens, I was saying, I feel like biting every women's arm or cheek that gets a bit closer. Like today, when I wanted to grab you delicately and kiss you and then torjman crossed my mind, like the rotten hole inside a dream. Torjman, always him, so mechanically precise.
Somebody's knocking on my window: I'm scared. I am really scared. Should I look outside? What if I really find somebody? A scared face, probably. Somebody, somebody knocking outside in the freezing cold under the night's blanket.