A "Whore" unintentional escapes me while I slip on a little pile of seaweed and I picked up on the sand. I let my shoes and my shirt that I held in my hand, trying to catch me. I catch up to what?
The tiny rock particles are sticking to my skin. The sky is so blue and it gives me huge headaches.
I get up and try to remove myself from the sand that covers the side of my body but my hands are still sweating over my back, and does not indicate a high efficiency. I decided to give up and continue my path on the beach.
The beach is heavy and hot. Dry algae the sun until it becomes brittle and landcraft avoid facing the furnace today. My region of birth is not big enough to support such a heat wave. She loves the gusts, the half-tones, the green of the sea ..
I ride on the dunes where the sand under your feet warm. There is not the slightest breath of wind to shiver the tall grass. I sit and observe a few minutes the tide rise.
These are not shells that will revolt. They are not killing each other seagulls. I love days at the beach because they are simply days on the beach. I
turns me a cigarette, and I realized with amusement that I felt like a vacation. The calm of the eddy and the yoke of heaven lead me astray, and make me forget the world with fire and blood that I went through before coming to shore.
The ferries to England gone, and paradoxically they never seemed so unnecessary. If I really want to leave France, I can even do it by swimming. I withdraw my remaining clothes, and savor a few moments the air on my skin and feel the beach is mine. I hits the dunes, running like a child, shouting insults towards all that is behind me. I encountered almost
water. It is cold and combative, but I steeled myself and passes over some waves. Very quickly I lose the foot. I began to swim slowly, saying that the journey might be long and that I could repeat my English to deal with.
You will not really do it, you know.
I start to float, and let the waves take on me back safely. After all I've traveled a few tens of meters before realizing that I really do not know what I want.
A new tattoo, of course. The end of the reign of evil and the beginning of a new collection of comics. Perhaps the return of Martine.
Once I found the foot, I can not wait to go take refuge in the dunes. The air is so hot that I almost instantly dry. Next to my clothes waiting for me an old acquaintance.
hard to miss someone who is more than a hundred yards. Even if he sits cross-legged, bearded giant is overshadowing to the sea When he sees me smiling back at him, God takes a biblical air which he has the secret
Miserable mortal he exclaims, how dare you disturb my peace?
"I was there before.
I think if I was not naked, he took me to send me off. But modesty prevents it probably. I'll sit beside him in the cool shade of her, and turns me another cigarette. He opens his mouth, ready to speak, then changed his mind. I asked him how was his crusade against France, out of politeness. I cited several cities he has destroyed a tired, and I feel that he came because he wanted to talk to me.
"I am disappointed myself he says.
-For what?
-The French mentality. Looks like you do not care that I break everything.
-On has a lot of stuff that we occupy. And it is destroyed already own.
It contemplates my scars like to assess my sincerity. I would suggest a good cigarette, but I'm afraid he crushes it between his fingers as big as me. I lengthen my legs in the sand, thinking that I still find myself sweating and covered, and it will return to swim.
The shadow of God is not enough. The furnace is intense, but I find it inappropriate to ask the bearded giant to lower the temperature. Gulls away, disoriented, circling approximate performing a ballet absurd. The horizon looks like a collision between two blue incompatible. The tide is much higher now. It touches on the first lot of algae it has left behind yesterday, and these take a darker color.
"It's still a fucking world that created you there, I said with admiration.
And yet, you did not see Mars from its heyday ...
I sense a hint of resentment in his voice. It's true we can not achieve anything we do, and maybe God himself is part of the army of losers. I asked him if he can not do anything to fix things, and he looked at me puzzled, before embracing the landscape burning with a sweeping gesture.
"It is a first draft," he explains. "Then
must rework, rather than demolish everything.
It was I who said that? God shrugs and replies that he did not intend to destroy Paris, or even the village where my parents live, if that's what I think. I said that he was a disinterested remark, and asked him what he will do now.
"I'm going to blow up everything, a little. Then I want to learn the saxophone.
"That's cool.
I rub my legs to make it from the sand and passes underpants on seeing a walker in the distance coming towards us. God tells me it is time for him to again. I beg to remain, take a deserved rest, to go for a foot bath. But he gets up and adjusts his robe.
"Then at least grant me one wish!
Thou hast believed in Aladdin? he bawls. You owe me something, not the opposite!
I apologize for having offended, and said that what I want is a trifle for him, I just want to give me back my tattoos. It m'inspecte from head to foot, and asks me to make a turn on myself. Irving made me wounds are barely healed, and my skin is dotted with pinkish bumps.
"It is you," he said. You are the sum of it all. Not be afraid of new beginnings.
-Your son, he would have healed.
-Shut up.
He leaves his footsteps shook the ground, towards the interior. He turns to me a wink, rubbing his ribs, and resumed his journey. It disappears very quickly from my field of vision. Not surprising when you see the strides he is a bastard is capable of.
I look at the last tattoo that I have, just to confirm what I think I understand. There, on my ribs, God has corrected a spelling mistake. We can now read in full "Every day will be gold. "
I smiled like a kid, before I return to the walker that I saw just now, none other than Xavier. Sometimes trotting, dripping with sweat, wearing a fluorescent vest and shorts sports too small.
This morning my friend decided he would enjoy his return to the campaign to regain footing, as in high school. He has obviously forgotten that in the meantime he started to smoke two packs a good day.
arrived at my height, he made a stop to spit his lungs. His face is scarlet and testis than its tiny shorts. He coughs, spits mucus, and suppresses dismissal.
still half-naked, he articulates between two noisy breaths.
"You can talk with your shorts ...
"It was in your closet, so shut your mouth.
-I wore when I was twelve.
I get dressed while he finishes dying. I asked him if he went away and he ordered me not to open his mouth before he is returned home my mother.
The tide has not moved, and I almost want to stay here until tonight, just to watch it rise. Xavier puts his testicles with humor, and takes the path of the car. I'm through the dunes, deliberately omitting tell him that he took the wrong direction, story a little longer to enjoy my day at the beach.
Note: Always the stories of balls ...
Soon: Xavier is nothing without me
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