tragicoptimist

I think since the big meeting is in four hours I have time not only to look for the whore but I have time to collect some money too. I turn on the siren and run two red lights, at the second I almost hit a guy who is crossing the street on his bike. I light another Camel but put it out right away. At 10:49 they give the alarm on the police radio for a robbery in Vittorio Emanuele Boulevard. It’s on my way, I’m on duty and less than a kilometer from there. I turn the radio and the siren off, make a U-turn and creep into traffic before the byway. I think about the vendor again and ask myself how the hell a nigger gives a little girl a blowjob. I untwist the cap off the bottle of rum and drink. » Read more «

When I bury the tattooed whore’s body it’s cold in that fucking factory. The bitch didn’t know anything I didn’t already. But she pissed me off. Her and her fucking tattoo pissed me off. Luckily I didn’t get any blood on me. I take off the rearview mirror to check again while I light a Camel. The son of a bitch at the shop didn’t have anymore Gauloises. I prepare a line of coke on the mirror, snort it and put it back into place. » Read more «

At the federation they are already singing the International. I join them on the last chorus. There are a lot of new people I don’t know, new people fucking bother me. One of them says now is a good time to let the secretary speak. I remember his name is Gargiulo, he’s my vice-secretary and is one of Big Brother’s guys. Everyone applauds, one of them hands me the microphone. I take it. Silence. I say excuse me but before speaking I have to go to the pot. Someone laughs, I don’t know why. In the bathroom I snort a line of coke, drink a sip of rum and shoot up a little, with my morning needle. » Read more «

At 9:15 I’m at the pharmacy and I buy two packs of Oxazepam. I get home at 21:47. Sara is lying on the couch watching tv, she pets the dog and says hi without turning her head. On tv there’s a political show but instead of real people there are animated figures. She asks me why I don’t have a hat. I tell her it’s no time to joke baby. I open the fridge and get a beer. » Read more «

At the fucking port it’s cold and there’s no trace of Giordano. I only have one Gauloise and I can’t go into the bar. I’m not sure whether to shoot up or wait some more, my hands are sweating a little, I decide to wait. At 8:02 my cell rings. I see if it’s Giordano but it’s an unknown number so I ignore it. At 8:04 it rings a second time and I ignore it again. At 20:07 it rings a third time and I turn it off. I light my last Gauloise and smoke. The son of a bitch comes out of the bar at 20:35, his shift is over. I get out of the car walking behind the lamp posts. The son of a bitch is getting into his car, I’m behind him, I tap him on the shoulder and he turns. I head-butt him on the nose. It bleeds. I hit him again, and again, and again. I stop at the fourth because if not he’ll pass out and won’t tell me shit. » Read more «