Vote Of Thanks Speech, Wedding

suggested Tuesday Red (Fragment)

Tuesday Red (II)
(excerpt from the new novel)

A sound woke him. Flies. Pulled the covers to the head, but the heat and the endless ringing made him jump up and shivering between asleep and awake, turned on the light. A shiver ran down from his feet when he saw the source: dozens of insects flying around, flies, black butterflies and moths, all in an anxious flutter, crashing into the wall, against Eduardo pajamas, hiding among his old books under the bed, rushing to the window closed. With an anxiety that had never known before, he covered his face, opened the window and began to kill insects with a shoe. One after another they fell, were smeared on the roof, on the sheets, collapsed on the face of Eduardo. In the end, the whole room was carpeted. Still trembling hand, placed the same clothes he had worn during the day and came back. When inhaled the fresh air, began to tremble again. Had dropped my cigarette. Damn cool.


Eduardo gets into his car, starts and takes the peripheral at this time, is clear. Manage and drive without knowing how much time, just get seduced by the way, hits the road. Erick is disturbed. He saw the body, but imagine life without one so full of it, it annoys. Distracting sound "will have a flat tire? Look in the rearview mirror, no cars come back. Try to pull over to the right, turns to look. Almost crashed against the bar when he sees containment Frida sitting in the back seat. She, with a blank stare, completely white eyes while watching it ...: Eduardo
hear a horn, giving the steering wheel and when he returned to look again, Frida disappeared.
Arriving at his apartment, opens even with trembling hands, she drops the keys, slams the door. Behind her as a child sits down and begins to mourn.
─ I feel lonely. "Speak out loud.
craves a cigarette. What a hateful way of thinking that problems are going up in smoke. You are alone. Out of his crate almost banned a stale cigarette smells different, tastes different and makes you feel better. As a ritual, you feel like hiding behind the living room couch, watching the skinny window. Never had more than two puffs without feeling guiltily intoxicated. Today is just the portion that remained, until his escape to the green troubles breathing.
The days of the weekend happen one after another with laziness. The hours are long, as if the clock would go back in time to move forward. Eduardo does not come out these days, just ordering a meal in his apartment and looks at her watch movies. Sometimes carefully browse the book of letters. He's afraid to reach the fourth. The other three already know them by heart. Imagine the tortured man away from his beloved, he imagines himself so hard in court, who dreams of it.