my landline sounds almost the time when the carriage turns into a pumpkin.
It is familiar voice, and it takes a few seconds to put a face. It's my brother, who never calls me. It always does my sister. Sergeant Hayden
ask me-with low voice because children sleep, if I'm free on December 7. Seems shy, as if to ask me for money. But he wants to give me two tickets for the upcoming Sri Lankan MIA concert in Barcelona. He knows that I like. He knows that I discovered him. He knows that I shower with the music.
I say no. Insists all these kangaroos have done to their children. We agree to a post, instead of two: I used to go anywhere alone. Going to try to buy online. Lengthen the conversation to tell him the election, to talk football, and asked for his last weekend in the land of fog, while I kept the metropolis.
I like my brother. It is a wardrobe, red, sexy, serious, caring, thoughtful.
In low voice, "because the children sleep," she says goodbye.
my landline hang almost to the hour when the carriage turns into a pumpkin. And I feel like a prince about to go to a dance, with a possible input to listen to the Sri Lankan accompanying me in the shower most mornings. This time will be live.
PD: Gràcies Xavi. Hi I have entered if not pateixis. El més important is the detail. T'aprecio molt.
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