He always watches me like that. We were just coming out of the seventh circle of hell and passing through the droughty meadow.
- Catch me, catch me… - I was screaming in front of his nose. The nose was big, and dirty too.
- Come on, stop with that - he demanded, stretching his arm to seize me.
I stung my long nails under his ribs and I stopped as he wishes me to. We find
Ourselves in the middle of beech wood on a moist path, close to overturned trunk. He's doing that again: changes all landscape! On just one his hint all nature is shifting. Maybe even this isn't crucial because I have never seen some directly correlation between that and his physical stir, sort of hint. It must be something in his thoughts. But, he claims that has no thoughts, makes no plans, considers no situations, and has no doubts, no… What can I say about him: impulsive type of a person, rejected from his troop.
Yah! Even I saw a tree in front of me when I wanted to sit down on it I find myself in a mud. What is he doing now? He threw himself close to me and squeezed my fist so hard that it was lost in the mire. I am sinking…
- Are we coming back to the seventh circle? - I asked him not expecting a reply from him who doesn't know what the suspense is and how that like is to keep someone in suspense. To him everything's finally, instantaneously, makes no distinction among past and future, born in endlessly and lives in endlessly.
- O how brilliant - in this mud where we were sinking was only maggot who I could speak with and who would pay attention at me. I can't pull out my hand, can't see it, it's just isn't here!
- You bastard - I said to his nose and spit out on his mouth.
- Wonderful - I said again in a convulsive pain, almost weeping.
- You can't choose your destiny anymore - he broke the stillness and reach for a high glass that was at the end of a long table. We were between some magnificent ruins. Exclusively bar completed with all sorts of red… wine. I wanted to grip one of the glasses but I felt dizzy and fell below his legs.

I am slacking around alone in my apartment. Listen to the TV. Eleven o'clock pm. Short news… I am waiting for the forecast. It's going to be turbulently and rainy. There's new e-mail showing at the desktop. I'm opening it… in the room is getting darken, light is becoming smother, TV turns off…
I'm reading: Hi beauty, I left you a car key in the kitchen, waiting for you at midnight. See you. Kiss. D.
I put on web tights, see-through black dress, underwear - I forgot, and with no shoes I'm getting in a car. Put the CD which songs affect my serotonin increase. In this delirium of sounds I'm knocking on a car-door, shaking my head. Repeat the same songs again and again and again. I pulled out a short blade under my seat. I'm licking it and drag along my lap… feels that coldness… I'm putting it in my handbag.
- I know what you're doing, but there's no recipe for the success. - says D. at the entrance.
I wonder how he knew. I had only unspecified thought in my head about killing him. I was really thinking that the clothes will be enough for dissuade him from pining into my imagination. Don't you muddle with my plans! If you only could bond to the present, to what a human being can be acquainted with. Damn it, present has gone by now, every second becomes history.
He always watches me like that: when knows how his time without end is charismatic to me, when I know that there's no such thing that he hasn't meet in his eternal life with. There's no difference between act and idea, acting and thoughts. Still, I had another wish that goes in an opposite direction. I wanted o see him dead - dead for real. I wanted to prove the power of my human restriction and imperfection - seems that unaware as I was, wanted to believe in so-called human superiority. Due to my restriction I wanted my mortality to prevail. He hasn't been in any kind of dilemma. He sticks his finger in my hair and stuck down his teethes on my neck…