Tonight it's not too cold and I wash with a green garden hose in the garden of a house, or stale there person. I agree with the city center and asks me on the stool of a bar counter, my bag in the bush of the small park opposite. I ordered a brandy and I look at a couple sitting quietly in a box with their glasses held identical hand, has observed. I asked the bartender if he can put music, he says he must wait twenty half hours. I do not want to know why and he said "Will there by more people." I made him a small affirmative movement of the head story he does not feel ill at ease. For thirty minutes I look at the bottles on the shelves and I alternate with the couple alone and nothing changes at home during those minutes, they do not kiss. I think back to the landscape through the window of the train, all the images took me across the train and the ugliness of the Palais des Festivals, its steps without red carpet. The bar is filled with a group of women with ten years older than me, you see she is co-worker and she laughs constantly. There is one acceptable vis a vis my hormones. U2 launches the bartender's burned to a CD or there is just a three score above the felt. I told him that the album art is good and he replies that people do not care, they would not do anyway, they just want the music. This bartender did not understand my intentions. I save my drinking slowly, basing myself on deeper with each sip. At twenty-one hours she pushes the back door, are next wave sweeps the room, passing over me several times and I must raise a hand to her know that I am the boy she seeks. Mice were slightly and she asked in a glass which the dissolved aspirin. She old daughter of Antibes and the new single from Vallauris. She has a smile more easily, and skin that seems less sweet.
- Flo You saw recently?
I replied no.
- It seems she had an attack of hysteria in a supermarket. She threw eggs at the vigils.
- Who is Flo?
She looks at me and drink the water that sparkles and presses his time.
- Ben is Flo.
- Ah yes ... ok Flo.
I do not know and never known person names Flo, Florian or Florianne or names beginning with "Flo."
- T'a look good I think.
- I'm not sure.
- I assure you.
- No I believe you, but I'm not sure to look good.
- It's cold.
- Yes it's cold.
I look at my eyes and immediately return the worn wooden counter, and then I said softly
- Sad cold seasons. She
staring in the face.
- Yes quite. Behind
hear the group of women who speak a name Richard who has big abs.
- It's true that ... What you give up your job, all that over there?
- What is the "bottom"?
- You know, the bottom. The Where've you.
- Yeah so what?
- I know it was not just to know.
"Beautiful Day" around and behind and there is always Richard in the discussions of women. She ordered a Bloody Mary and asks me what I want, I told him I would try to kiss her again. She looks at me looked strange, not knowing what to say, by refluxing my pathetic.
- A port, a port I meant.
The bartender looks at me and made a little nod with his look and gestures perfectly neutral dynamics, to show he does a good job here. It serves us and did not say anything and I prefer it. She rummages inside his bag and black imitation leather pulls out a small yellow booklet which puts me in front of the wood adhesive. A booklet with graphic filthy wind merits of a store Chinese porcelain, and the names is "Comparato porcelain". I took the little paper and reread the name five times and then she speaks.
- You see how he had said ten years ago during our last year. My eyes
frowns and the bartender laid our glasses, she takes hers and drank half a sip.
- This little bastard ... he did what he said already? "This store will bear my name" and we just laughed. Have took it for bullshit, besides, I have not see how could have ... It is really crazy. He even had his name engraved on the silver chain with its Iron Curtain during our lunch breaks.
I took my glass and holds it under my nose, sniffing the aroma of raisins, I look in the mirror in front, behind the bottles and my face seems red and terribly damaging, the contours of emon nose full of dead white skin.
- He did what he had said.
- Apparently.
I drink, the bartender read a playboy pose behind the counter, legs crossed, polishing a glass. A hand that smells Shea sits on my shoulder. I turn and a women's group, half laughing stares.
- Excuse me You're known?
I drink a sip and return my gaze in the mirror axis.
- It depends for whom.
- Yes but I mean, you're not a guy on TV?
- Yes that's a guy on TV.
In the mirror I see her return to her female friends who giggle. She, the new single from Vallauris, beside me, watching the couple.
- What do you do as issues?
- Stop you fuck my mouth, go find another fool kiss you or someone to hate.
She stops laughing, their eyes look more things around me and then she turns and goes back and laugh stupidly when they joined his new friends.
I turn to it next to me, she hold her head, his elbow on the counter. I told him:
- You're gonna have back problems.
- A growing problem, a problem less, whatever. What difference? I told her with a tease.
- The back problem, back pain. His eyes are tired
, blackened, I deliver the specification in his bag and finished my glass. "With or whitout you" Bono sings in our ears.
- You have a place to go?
- Yes, I have a hotel room.
- Okay, well I'll go I start early tomorrow.
- Wait, wait, that's two years we have not seen, you want to stay?
- Sorry, I led a life, and then I'm sad with you, you make me the trouble, I think I have a sort of pity for you.
- I 'm not disabled.
- I know exactly'd have at least had an excuse with ca.
I look down on her red converse or draw it in black, a symbol of peace on the white cap.
- I understand.
Discover Bob Dylan !
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