domingo, março 20, 2011

This Sunday

It had everything to be a typical, boring Sunday, but that Sunday would be different. The cigarette smell was still in my hair and headache showed a hangover the night before had gone to a rock bar, without too many memories. I hear my phone ring and get the following message "Thanks for the company last night was unforgettable, " no name. I thought it best to forget and not return, it could only be a lie, who would come out with the weird girl from school? That damn City?
Three days and that same number kept calling me and sending messages, no answers. Since then my phone rang no more.
One week, the same bar, the same drink, all the memories started to appear in my mind, the boy of the messages, beautiful! And like me, alone. We talked all night, he had depression, he was alone, and I said I loved him. I asked everyone if they knew the boy, nothing. I was crying more than a common drunk.
I looked everywhere possible, but I forgot one detail, that same Sunday, the bullet more sweet that he prove, would cross your head.

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