Out by the airport I turn on the siren, turn into a oneway street against traffic and hit a cat that is crossing. I want to smoke but I’ve finished the Camels. The whore is frozen and is staring at the windshield. I turn off the siren and tell her give me a cigarette, she takes a pack of Gauloises from her pocket and says keep ‘em. I light one and then put the pack in my pocket and I say what the hell were you thinking you stupid whore. She says I don’t know I’m sorry. I say you’re sorry what the fuck does that mean you’re sorry, then I punch her and the blood starts dripping from her nose again. She tries to stop it with her hands but it bleeds everywhere. Where did you put my gun and my hat I say. Here she says and points to her bag. I open it, put my hand in and find a pack of Lorazepam. I say and what the fuck is this. I throw it to the ground and dump the bag on the dashboard. And I find my gun and my hat. My. Gun. I point it at her and I say I don’t know if you’re a bitch or just high. The whore takes her hands from her face and stares at me, her nose and mouth are all bloody. I say put your shit back in your bag. The whore obeys. I say who the fuck are you supposed to defend yourself against with this. She asks how do you know about it. I say I’m the one asking the questions. She says ok. I press the barrel of the gun against her heart, the whore shakes and says you’re hurting me. I say talk. She says she owed a guy some money. I ask who. She says a dealer. I ask who. She says your friend you talked to at the bar. I say Giordano. She says yes. I say shit and relax the gun. The whore touches her aching chest and I see her nipple. She asks you got a dose. I answer first I want to fuck you. I stop the car in a lot behind the airport. Twenty meters away two hookers are lighting a crate on fire. I get the syringe from my pocket and I realize it’s already ready. I stick her without using a strap and she says ouch fuck you got the artery. I try again but can’t find the vein, so I say use your hairband. She takes it out and sticks her arm through and squeezes, her vein is full of scars and the needle doesn’t go in, so I stick her hand and she starts retching. I say go outside. She starts retching again. I open the door and while she’s puking outside I cut a line of coke on my badge. I snort it and then look for an Oxy in my pocket but can’t find one. I get the Lorazepam from the floor and swallow three. The whore closes the door and says it’s good. I say what. She says the H. I cut a small line of it and snort it then pass her the bottle of rum and say clean yourself up with this. She drinks and washes the blood and vomit from her face. I push her head down, she unbuttons my pants then pours some rum on my dick and starts to blow me. I light a Gauloise and say get undressed. She gets undressed, I turn her over and fuck her from behind. I push her head against the car window when I cum inside her.
tragicoptimist
write. one word. at a time.
That’s what i call a nice story. But seriously, i really like the style used in this text, it’s simple and efficient, and i think it’s more efficient if you read it slowly so every word, sentence gets the time to be meaningful. It hits you when you read it, it’s like someone just slapped me in the face so hard i find trouble breathing.
It’d seem quite cheesy but it’s the way i felt reading it.
Thank you for reading. However, only a great source text can lead to a good translation, so really you should let Angelo Petrella know you enjoyed it…