Milena Velba Milking A Dog

got off the bus. The rain had stopped and the air smelled of wet earth. The sky, swept by a pleasant breeze, it was finally clear. He crossed the quiet street and walked up a path between fields. Half an hour later he saw the sloping roof of his old house.
He felt uneasy. That meeting him intimidating. After years of silence he felt he had lost the right to define child. But that emotion was disturbed by many other fears. Deep
and unspeakable. On
driveway admired the gray area created by artfully pruned trees, perfectly in line with the side fences. She knocked timidly. Then again. Maybe they slept. He tried to turn the handle the main entrance. No resistance. It was open.
entered cautiously. He did not want to scare them. The decor had not changed much. Minimal and elegant.
Too quiet.
He went upstairs. None.
beds intact. Everything perfectly into place. His parents had never been the kind of people who spend the night outside the home. After all that time must have changed habits.
I hope so.
decided to clear his head with a shower. Resisted the temptation to wait for sleeping.
was tired of nightmares.
was weak. He had stomach cramps. A slight but prolonged dizziness convinced him to take to the kitchen and eat something. Milk, biscuits, jam, sitting at table of his childhood.
began to show signs of impatience. The wait
exhaustion. The
hurt his head again. On the phone, but there was no signal. She turned on the TV, which was just across the table. Nothing. The screen only annoying static electricity.
head gave him no respite.
He got up, drank a few sips of water directly from the tap. Then that buzz again
unbearable in his ears.
Basta. He was exhausted. He could not think. Nor to keep calm.
went out slamming the door, determined to do something. Whatever.
His eyes of a madman.

Lost My Digital Copy File

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 1

In Airport mingled among the people. He tried more crowded for the room to remain unseen. Ate sitting at. Then he drank a cup of coffee too bitter, sipping a long time. He paid in cash, ignoring the sly smile of a waitress. He went without haste.
The bus station was very close. He went up, the driver paid the ticket and sat near the window in one of the files behind. In head heaps of unresolved thoughts.
was tempted to call his family. Seeing him after all this time would upset them. It was certain.
The bus left reeling. Did not notice either.
Turn the phone would be risky. And then it was obvious that his would have asked too many questions. Forget it. Prudence prevailed.
began to rain. Little, but with insistence. The blurred lights of oncoming cars pierced the windows wet, radiating sprawl.
The intensity of thought led him to nod off.
The air grew heavy. There was a bad smell. Every now and then a hum noise penetrated the head from ear to ear. He felt discomfort.
A cough. Then another. He felt a warmth
slimy creep down my spine. He realized he could no longer move her head or open his eyes.
Again the buzz. From side to side. He felt suffocated. The arms, legs, hands, wrapped in moist heat that is unnatural and numbness. She decided to scream. The lips, glued to each other, then drowned in a desperate attempt to rattle grotesque.
Then he saw it. He saw himself become one with the horrible seat. The walls of the bus became a hot plate.
dry cough. Sweat. Fuoriscivano screeching metal cables from the walls.
pain. Intense. Cables, metal, harpooned the flesh. His.
meat and metal. Metal and flesh. The sharp slowdown
woke him up.
again.
It happened again.
always the case.