Monday, October 25, 2010

Cotton Socks With Dachshunds

The Becaària, George Genetelli, preview, 8 (Output expected at the end of November)

(...)
The first night saw scant, because Preonzo had never taken into account. He repented and renewed immediately around the square.
- Hey hello - Mario improvised with a false momentum.
- Mario? What are you doing here? - She asked with much more ease, holding the bread.
The other took his time, almost from the response depended on the Nobel. Then she bore a broken - I'm here to work - a phrase that spoke for the first time in his life, perhaps.
All made him ridiculous, he realized.
She said that it was nice that there was someone who knew that there was a big annoyance, which was better at the piano, which had become the ugly curls.
He seemed to have great hair and, as he looked for the very first time, those two little breasts were just fine. He chose not to say anything about it, but merely a - oh, come on, is not that bad - as if the landscape had become brighter just because he lit up.
The light went out immediately, though.
- And then I miss Orlando.
Mario grossed to Muhammad Ali, but his jaw a bit 'fell.
- Well, but you will not find you?
- No.
- Ah ...
"Well," thought Mario unashamed to enjoy the misfortunes of others (which, however, was convinced, were never as big as his misfortunes).
And then, the boyfriend of Anna could not be a boyfriend. One that just maybe if ciola.
Anyway, there were two boys in comparison to a man like him.
And do not even want to know more of that idiot boyfriend and away.
As if he read in thought, Anna finally dismounted.
- It can not come because it works. But if I can get rid of my watch by tomorrow night I run down myself.
- Sin - Mario said, trying not to reveal the tip of malignant contentment that had caught him.
- Why?
- Well, boh ... maybe you could go for a ride you and me.
- If not tomorrow, then another day. So I have to stay here a month.
Mario was insolent to the seeming lack of interest in him as male. But, thinking better, was still an open door on anything.
- So hello, hold my fists for tomorrow - Anna concluded, with a wink of complicity.
"from certain [1] ..." he thought.
- You'll be fine, you'll see - but he said stretching his mouth into a smile mess.
(...)


[1] Sure (Preonzo)

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