A few hours later, my second "I" beat in a slight chill of hangover, but did not show it. It always behaved calmly and slightly sarcastically. And this time, his muttering about the fact that “he had never had such a“ thoughtful ”gangster in his life had not too unnerved me. Yes, and it would be ridiculous to argue and disagree, if all our sexual entertainment had a clear and strict direction under the control of the first "I" who had fallen into a sexually creative trance.

In full accordance with the scenario, my most important, the biggest and slowest gear had the worst: it had the main blow. Her teeth, creaking plaintively, jumped out of engagement with the next more agile and brisk gear, and the unfortunate part of my chronometric organism flew to the utmost distance, pulling the grinding springs, bushes and pendulums. My other details, which survived so far, were frozen in a tetanus of horror, knowing too well that they had very little time left to enjoy the triumphant reality. Although it is not known exactly how much. The flow of time rushed past me. I stood on the shore, indifferent - as I wanted - to this eternal movement. And I also saw from above, from below, from the side and as if even from the inside, the fierce heel of a woman's shoe flying straight at me. Sharp, ruthless and inevitable, he cut the air with a high-explosive whistle bomb so that, falling a second time, finally destroy the mechanism born of time, revolution or some other hopelessness for the eternal-infinite reproduction of the same time.

- Piccolo, my always in a hurry, always late, always running and not succeeding Piccolo! Even if you decided to finally stop and take a breath, it means that something in the world turned upside down. Or turned. I do not know for the worse or for the better. From head to toe or vice versa. But I do not mind.

- We also do not mind.

- Who are we?

The question hangs in the air. As if all our quantity is exhausted by the number "2"! Even if we look into each other’s eyes, the silhouette of someone else will always appear on the periphery of the iris. Or third. Like in a Bond movie. James Bond

In fact, I do not lie at all under the sheet, heated by two bodies melting from the atomic heat of the newly thundered enjoyment. On the contrary. I stand opposite. Opposite the house where they are waiting for me. Or do not wait. I do not know for sure. But I have to appear there today. “Whether the snow is falling, whether the rain is pouring warm” - today I don’t care. Time today should leave me alone and take my muddy waters away from me and from it. From all of us. At least for a while.

The snow has not yet fallen, but it becomes cold to stand like that simply, almost without moving at the entrance, basking in the last cigarette. Actually, I myself do not understand what I am waiting for. God-Time gave me the leave, and I dispose of it - ineptly. As always. How can I only. And a cigarette is just an excuse for not currently existing time. Absurd. And what did I find in it?

Several steps broken by snow and rain of the concrete porch.

She always wanted to stop time. I always felt it. But Faustian desires do not inspire me. Why stop time, if it is more correct to break it, to break out of its chains? And then you can begin to implement the unclear, unconscious to her, my woman, desires. I, fortunately, catch her desires better than any radio telescope.

Jumping out of the time stream, first destroying the chronometer, pounding in my chest, like Klaas's ashes. Moreover, her heel sly long ago got to my watch gears. After a huge number of unconscious hostess attempts today he succeeded. Contrary to probability theory. Because with my permission. So the time has come. More precisely, gone. To the side. Way down. Up.I do not know for sure.

Naked, we lie with her, hugging each other, as only children can run away from the storm. This is called “just lying down” after dizzy hugs, fireworks kisses and leapfrog dangerous-sweet mutual conspiracies. I plunge headlong into the tenderness, generously poured into the flooded meadows of its nature. I do not resist as before melting caresses and rustling like leaves of grass, according to the most intimate properties.

- Take your time, my love. Let's still lie down. Just lie down, not moving. (It seems, usually it's her replicas)

- Come on, of course. Such bliss to feel the touch of your body ... And I beg you not to take it out of me.

- Of course ... There is nothing better than to feel you from the inside.

Stairs. I do not recognize elevators. I do not trust mechanical monsters. I'm coming up. On the twelfth floor. Sluggish, unhurried. Slow and trapped like a novice actor or a zombie convert. Who would have thought that right now in me the volcano of obsession is bubbling. Yes, when I am obsessed, then it is impossible to stop me. And now I am obsessed with her desire. A desire about which even she herself has a vague idea. While her thoughts are fully occupied by the strange behavior of the person next to her.

She is pleased. She is surprised. And not trying to hide it. “Usually, you immediately begin to hurry. Immediately after a shower, you rush to clothes like a hermit crab to your shell. All that you are capable of - a couple of clumsy compliments. If you're deserting. Mentally you are already in another place, in other matters and with other people. If you think you're insulting me, then you are mistaken. You Piccolo, how can you be offended? You are more annoyed with yourself: I am probably not good enough for you, even if for a moment you don’t want to delay the time allotted to us by heaven. What happened to you today? Did you want to change, Piccolo? Oh, something does not look like you! Are you sick? ”

Oh my Dio, you're certainly right! You always feel everything, even if you cannot understand what is happening. You're Felicita. Same subtle sensual as I am. Only better and cleaner!

Today I stopped. I do not want to hurry. I'm tired! We will lie side by side, swinging on the waves of relaxed euphoria, until the universe rolls over, until all civilizations turn to dust, until my dick loses the last ladybug of straining blood that can hold it in the warm moisture of the lair of passion between your legs. And let the transparent grace of the Botticelli brush, in search of magical tones and shades of colors of eternal spring, slide over us ...

- Get up and go!

Is she telling me ?! My annoying Felicita ?! That's always the case: the most good intentions turn around, at best, useless whims, and at worst ...

- The time is over.

She never knew that her own and even universal heels are not able to destroy time at all, so that it suddenly ends forever. Heel pushed him away from us. But she can only guess about this. Or feel. Not very clear.

Meanwhile, I am already standing in front of the door to her apartment and turning the key in her hands, which she gave me six years ago and which she already managed to forget. To enter or not to enter? For some reason it seems that I am doing the wrong thing, stupid, almost criminal. "Our world is foolish and funny." And cats scrape the soul, like my fingers her door. You can retreat. I know. And it would be easier, easier. No headaches, throwing in a bamboo grove of doubt and passion. Leave, so as not to return. And never do anything stupid. And not to be a person who sometimes in a pinch of cold autumn air makes more sense than in the great diversity of moralizing and moralizing of all the philosophies of the world. So did not Zarathustra say ...

Flashing the steel side, the key deft insects bite into the keyhole.

I certainly do not have time to get dressed. Just to pretend that I want to get out from under the sheets and give someone else’s, somewhere long time ago heard, Hochma: “Pronto, Smolny on the wire!”, Which causes a stream of hysterical grimace ...