11.
At the end of the story went like this: autumn had arrived a bit ', the summer was now a yellowed postcard and I like hamsters had started running again in the routine. Run, hamsters, run, run, so never going to get anywhere. Work, work, work: after all it was a great anesthetic. What a bargain 
gave her satisfaction. That night was going to give me one of the largest in recent years. Bike, in traffic and under a shower of autumn, but those who do not drench you sneak the wet to the bone, I got the call I was waiting a long time for that new contract to which I had worked so hard. Great! That evening, as usual aperitif, with the usual friends at the bar I usually had something to celebrate!
And there, at the local bar, sitting at a table defiladed was Sam. He had announced his return so he knew that I would find there.
Stop!
This was just a movie, another that the protagonist of this story was projected on the head so many times, riding a bike between home and office and looking at this way, taking refuge in a movie all its own, not to succumb under the weight of that city by the light milk, where everything always seems to lose its contours and hopelessly the same.
Stop! That was just a movie and life - as he had said - not a Hollywood movie. Sam was gone, although he had never stopped writing.
"From my bed I'm so confused here in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Drunk, as usual, only in a hotel ... Direction home a complete unknown ... beads of sweat on the brow. Oh God, forgive my sins, I am completely overwhelmed. I miss you, F. I miss your terrace, your plants, your climbing and your .............. succulent skin. Sorry to be so unreliable. I can only take one step at a time. Love, S. ".
gave her satisfaction. That night was going to give me one of the largest in recent years. Bike, in traffic and under a shower of autumn, but those who do not drench you sneak the wet to the bone, I got the call I was waiting a long time for that new contract to which I had worked so hard. Great! That evening, as usual aperitif, with the usual friends at the bar I usually had something to celebrate! And there, at the local bar, sitting at a table defiladed was Sam. He had announced his return so he knew that I would find there.
Stop!
This was just a movie, another that the protagonist of this story was projected on the head so many times, riding a bike between home and office and looking at this way, taking refuge in a movie all its own, not to succumb under the weight of that city by the light milk, where everything always seems to lose its contours and hopelessly the same.
Stop! That was just a movie and life - as he had said - not a Hollywood movie. Sam was gone, although he had never stopped writing.
"From my bed I'm so confused here in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. Drunk, as usual, only in a hotel ... Direction home a complete unknown ... beads of sweat on the brow. Oh God, forgive my sins, I am completely overwhelmed. I miss you, F. I miss your terrace, your plants, your climbing and your .............. succulent skin. Sorry to be so unreliable. I can only take one step at a time. Love, S. ".
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