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The man who gave enjoy plants

He was a slender, pretty funny guy, his small family (wife two children, the elderly 4 was not by him), his letter really bad and kept afloat. Marscha, his young wife (nicely), he sometimes sat with moods, which he used to disappear one or two days. If he came back, he spoke very nebulous of Sauftouren with friends. To agree to
his young wife conciliatory, brought He tours constantly with her from such beautiful potted plants. It was very unusual and not exactly cheap below. She noticed that, in contrast to the exotic plants and pot forms the colors of the pots repeated. So, as if her husband is just no imagination: brown, yellow, black, red alternated with each other. Green, or blue were never among them ...
After two years together, had accumulated more than 15 such plants reconciliation. They were, very decorative in the kitchen, in the hallway, the living room and bedroom.
One fine day, met his wife at a bus stop, Elif, a Turkish woman to know. It was, the Turkish woman, from the front of her brutal husband Bosporus fled to Austria to live with relatives here. She would have to leave their child and suffered from it. She made Marscha a compliment to the tot in the stroller, and found the four-year-old on her hand nice. In the further course of the conversation it became clear that Elif stayed for four years in Austria, and was now landed at the Jehovah's Witnesses, especially because they had been disappointed at the outset by a man.
"How?" Marscha asked, curious. She was an atheist, could do with the Jehovah's Witnesses zero, but the thing with the man she was interested.
The two women got on the bus, sat down and told Elif.
"... was disappeared for days. . Two days, three ... reconciliation, however, he always brought a potted plant "
Marscha Elif interrupted:" Hey, that's funny. Mine is also one of those. He sometimes drinks with friends. For days. . And it brings me to reconciliation pot plants "
Elif hesitated and asked," What color are the pots for "
" Strange that you ask just that, "said Marscha.
"Are they also silver, blue, green pots by this?" Asked the Turk.
"no. This is not ... "Marscha was uncomfortable to Mute.
"Only brown, red, yellow and black pots are it's true It? ", hooked by Elif.
march was puff. She could not utter a word, staring her acquaintance, I round to the eyes.
"Marscha!" Said Elif suddenly and grabbed the young woman so quickly to the upper arm, that this was startled.
"Yes? What do you have? "
" What is your husband? "
" Charles. "
" But not Karl Kinaski? ", It came from Elif.
Marscha was shocked.
"Yes. Exactly. Is he ... you know you? "
Marscha was now looking forward to this wonderful coincidence, but are Elif gray facial expression she was suspicious.
A distant idea grew into the young mother on, and already Elif said: "The colors of the pots that you bring your husband, are the colors of hair bitch, fuck it, this bastard. During his Sauftouren. They are young, 15, 16 The he fucks. The old pig. Your husband is a pig. I'm sorry. But this is so. "
Kinaski arrived this evening in a good mood home. From a two-day Sauftour. With a potted plant. The fell with a loud clang from his hands as he looked into the kitchen, his wife, sitting opposite, Elif .
all stared at the shards of pottery bowl that is broken. They were spontaneous shock of neon green.
, and as clear as if she had rehearsed the set for weeks, said Marscha ". Well, that must have been a little punk-bitch"
Then she let out a long, clattering and very sinister laugh.


Bathed in sweat, I woke up from this nightmare. It was early morning. The shrill laughter turned out to be a drill, the positioning on a worker on the wall opposite to his frame. Again ... only for short ... but it had served to wake me up. For weeks they renovated this ugly facade. My pump was racing, I was wiping the sweat from his forehead. Long I stared at the large potted plant next to the bed. In the dim light she looked like a crazy sculpture, the hunger. Then I turned to Marscha.
She slept as quietly as a child and just as clueless.

end

What Size Leathers For Stirrups

TRIP!

"Damned," cursed the Americans than us, the rental car somewhere in no man's land between Palma and "what I know" absoff.
When was he drowned. I am familiar with cars is not, especially if they come from a dubious car hire, whose head weighs 200 kg.
The American had immediately turned back and muttered something like the "abomination" was sounded. I
meat avalanche had stopped.
"20 € is' n bit much for the carts, which they offer, no? "
The man laughed and meant, in broken German, which may be, but if our mood correctly, we could also use some fine, which he had opened the lid of a ring who sat on his sausage-like middle finger, and a white powder had spilled onto his desk.
"Man, oh man ... but we are not on coke" had told me.
At the word coke had the Americans, who still had not been out of earshot, turned back.
"Isse no coke ... isse fungi brain change ... ..."
"Spitzkegelige Bald heads? "
" Uh? "
" mushrooms? "
The plump face of Dick had blasted. "Say yes, yes ... so ... so you say German ..." The Americans only

station had understood.
By chance I had become his drinking buddy. Know we had, as we had been fighting together against three locals.
This morning he had been suddenly in a hurry to get to a certain point on the North Coast. Before the storm, which announced itself, would sweep over Mallorca. There would be a sunken boat. He had to dive down there and get something out of the cabin, he had declared. We were at the car rental gelatscht.
"I pay the cart", I said to the thickness. "And 20 G of this powder. If it's crap, we sink your car in the sea. "
" Oh it well ... it sucks ... nothing. 20 cars, the powder ... 50 ... "
I had leafed through the bills towards him.
Now, 40 minutes and 3 grams of powder later, drank from the fucking cart. The Americans let it roll while I risked a glance at the black sky.
any time it could start pouring.
"Let's walk." Said the American, and I felt my skin crawling directly spotted among thousands of colorful beetles.
"Is it far from here?"
"The boat? No. ".
" How do you know where exactly it is? I mean it is under water. "
" The mast will show me the way. "
" fattening? Ah ... the poles ... which is above the water. All right. I understand. When ah uh ... when did the boat sunk? "
" Two days ago. "
More did not the Americans, who now occasionally turned into a lizard, he decided there was before me. The stuff of the fat was good.
Very good: a powerful Gehdrang combined with a forced smile came over me. I passed the upright walking lizard that suddenly turns made.
"Hey, where do you go?" I said and stopped. Since I could not stand still but I quickly went in circles.
The answer was not long in coming. The lizard won the half-full gas cans, the thickness of us had been on their way out of the trunk and poured the cart. She did a yard and threw a match.
The car went up in flames, and I decided that my number one here was too large. The lizard was probably from the CIA and that made no faxing.
I would drop me off at a favorable opportunity.
At that moment, the lizard was just about to turn into the Americans back, it started to pour huge at. The fire was extinguished.
The car was charred ... no more. What would be the thickness for the wheelbarrow ask? 1000? No matter. In view of the fact that he dealt, I could act it down safely. Then the holiday was just a week earlier to end. The Mallorca. Not in my brain. Because I still thought it to buy some of this powder, that more new features revealed.
cursing the Americans went past me.
I followed him, laughing. I laughed and laughed. I hope he took it personally
The American, whose face now lacks the lion from the Wizard of Oz "was like, all the lions that courage came up to me and missed me a resounding Slap. I laughed and went blank.
I woke up in the bungalow of the American. Two chicks were sitting across from me and grinned. I knew her. The American, and I had flirted with them the day before. "Mansfield is back to the U.S.," said one. "He says he would have paid the rental car. And we can use the bungalow. He is currently rented for three days. "I sat bolt upright, and pure joy came over me.
Bin Mädls right back, "I said, jumping up. The miracle powder I had left.
In the supermarket I bought three bottles of vodka, pegs, silver packing tape, and two monstrous cucumbers.
That would be three horny monkey days.

Fin

How To Put A Garmet Rack In A Suit Case

The writer who was not a mother fucker

Everything was on the polished mahogany panel of the desk, so it should be like. The sharpened pencils, the clamp apparatus of the holes, the neatly stacked sheets of copy paper, the Zigarettenpackung.Wenn he had the look left, glide across the screen of the laptop, he looked down at the busy square outside the nursing home. A recyclable island was there. An old, bent man threw a beer bottle.
You "to an artist."
He acted as if he had not heard those four words. He moved the ashtray approach, a cigarette lit on fire and inhaled.
You're a parasite. A nothing had thou art "
The old man disposed of his bottles and returned to the nursing home. His upper body was bent forward so that it was feared that his hat would fall to him at any moment from his head. Now he almost joined together with the red-faced woman who always picked up dead leaves from the ground.
you're a sausage. A very little pain. Empty and lazy. Writing? Write what you want? First go to work was. Then you can write. Artists, pah. Go to work. And I do not lie on the bag. "
He grimaced, and made a slight gesture, as would apply it to ward off a rotten fish. He inhaled and stared at the screen with the stylized sheet of paper. It was empty. As it was empty yesterday, a week ago, and a month ago, when he named his secure job flung and had sat down to write his novel at last. The title was clear for years: the seven bridges to nowhere.
"For three years you parasitizes with me! Look at your brother. The works part. And you? A little bit here and a little work there. Then you throw the thing again. You have no bite. You will become a Sandler. Like your father. The writing is frozen in the suffix But. Ha. Writing. The Lord wants to write. First you need to bite something. Then one can write. Get a job! "
He lighted a second cigarette. He stared at the recycling Island. Dusk fell. The glow of the cigarette holder danced outside the window.
When the voice came again, he lost his temper and shouted:
"Shut your damn finally Schandmaul, mother! Keep your damn mouth! Or I beat them into you! "
He slammed his fist on his desk mahogany board, breathing heavily and eventually began to sob. It had always been, its parents, especially since she had died 10 years ago.

Fin