Yesterday I went to work earlier. I passed her in the driveway oblepionym light frost, driving next to her bicycle. Do not look at me. She walked slowly towards the car park and light lamps gave her a bit of growth, it seemed more slender silhouette. She wore boots. Trashy black leather boots. A couple of times before I was wondering if it pulls to the taking away of things? Apparently there are those whom it takes ...
Whatever.
I look for her eyes later, When someone arrives refuel, as usual, or when he comes to the station after a hot chocolate from a vending machine. Treats for my money, and I will no longer become caught up erect with the abdomen. Sure smile. That's the kind of smile "reserved only for her" . With his face turned red from the cold, crossing legs, count the small, sliding the long fingernail on a flat palm another coin. When she bent down over the top and scatters them. Count them with her, in the end it's my job. A plaque with the inscription "Participant training" , instead of the name, it may arouse her sympathy and understanding, in the end we're both complete novices in what we do. We're absolute beginners .
dime Once I went with her hand. Smooth. Not looking at the guy's face, which was a change not to see the expression on his face. Do not ever think what mogłobyc on these arms. I have it in the ass. Get wrapped up her late autumn cold, but even though I turned the blower on the door it feels.
on her face I find a smile. Smiles a lot, but a smile out of politeness, which reveals no teeth, this is not her professional smile. Her friend did not smile. Only rechoczą, performing at the same gwałtwone gestures. Always in a hurry. She did not, doing everything slowly, wystudiowanymi gestures, as if reflecting on each motion. There is no passion in them, but reading them makes me happy. Whenever
.
did not come yesterday. Maybe mom made her coffee in a thermos.
Invisible.
Just as I do not know anything about it. Just like I'll never know.
I do not know the true color of her hair, I have no idea in what may be age. It has a dark mole on the left lip, gently zwiodczałą complexion on the face, hair bleached and does not look at my site when I go out someone to refuel.
That's all I know about it.
Maybe one day she thought about me warm, you may look at my page once her face, and maybe I'm just another guy with an ID on his chest under his shirt with company logo. Background as a truck driver and always sleepy. We
services.
I sold them beer, it's myself.
I do not know the price list. Swallowing, no, nevermind, I think that and just not doing that well.
I know that someday he will learn.
I do not know the menu. I do not want to know him, but not because it pushes me, or because everyone does it, because even if I knew, still I would think about it, that is a girl who I could love.
I know it smells like her face. I know all of her weight and depression. I saw in her before the first wrinkle, and the first gray hair. Sooner than she herself. Her complexion zwiodczała slightly since last year. People who spend time together duzżo such things can not see at home, they need a distance. I do not have to have it. I just see things like that. I asked her once if she was happy, although it happens either. She responded - I remember it like today - "Does it matter?". returned no more to this subject. You know? I know the truth, I just do not believe in it. This allows me to live.
Captain Nemo - [The Best of Captain Nemo # 05] Your Lorel
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