Friday, 20 January 2012

the orange sweater

Last night I had three cups of cava-cava before I went to bed. I don't know if it is related to it but I dreamt a lot. Despite the fact that I remember that this is not how it all started, the thing that I recall most vividly is me trying to have s.. with p., who actually looked more like my previous boyfriend than himself. We were doing it on some stairs outside the place we were temporarily living in. It was like a hostel or something. There we were, in the dark, on the dump stairs of the opposite building, trying to get on to it when people started arriving. We were still fully dresses so I did something to cover his back and we pretended we were just kissing. His sister arrived after a while. She was wearing some hand-made knitwear of mine. It was a flossy orange t-shirt like cardigan with black trimmings on the neck. I was trying to remember why I had given it to her and came to the conclusion that I had lent it to her for an occasion and that she was merely exploiting it. She had lost a lot of wait and it fitted her like a very elegant dress. I went to the kitchen and when I returned I found her on p.'s lap, in an incestuous position. They were laughing so much that I felt embarrassed because I thought they were making fun of me but then I heard her say her boyfriends name and I understood that they were only fooling around. Yet I could not kick away the feeling of embarrassment and I blushed.

The building we were living in was huge and it must have been a busy hour because people were coming and going all the time. Somebody informed us that something had gone wrong and that there would be a curfew later that night.

That's about all that is left in my memory until now.

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