Mac Basketball Scorebook

The Dark Side Of Solitude # 1


This is an attempt that I am working on both EFP fanfic that LJ.Pubblico up the pieces in both sites, although here at LiveJournal is a blog to vent ... but I would like these little stories and then publish them gladly tell qui.Sono divided among themselves, without a single plot, so I find them also suitable for this blog, because I'm just ... uh frammenti.Li publish all of the same name for convenience, but the text will all titoletto own.

The Dark Side of Loneliness
# 1: Trans stop the train.


Piove.Oggi. Shit.
Three words describe the day. Especially cock.
get off the bus and two seconds long, are fradicia.Cammino quickly to reach quickly the first shop that sells cianfrusaglie.Mi slip in among people who crowded around the cash register.
Entro.Destra.Ombrelli.Agguanto the first that happens, I ask how much is committed to Asia next to me banco.Carina.A Asians have always done a certain effetto.Sono elegant nature, reading, evanescenti.Sembrano disproportionate at first glance, but the beautiful ones, the ones you enchant , taking into a fraction of a second halo of light bianca.La clear skin and perfect hair blacks, lisci.Un succession of contrasts cromatici.La observe while putting the umbrella in a bag plastica.Non know if it is the rustle of plastic or that of his clothes but it seems to me that I had just woken from a deep sleep that I carried back from the bed where I dormito.Letto not mine, incidentally.
Pago.Esco quickly and I sling the uphill path that leads to the library more vicina.Apro umbrella and pull down the hood with the heat, with rabbia.Cammino stamping their feet, too angry about the mess of giornata.Non much for rain, but my plans saltati.Venezia.Gita Venice. beloved's not her fault, her , indeed ... are things that you can not only controllare.Sono mad at the time. The time that passes too quickly . There are days when I wake up saying "it's Monday and I go to sleep saying," is Sunday, and tomorrow we start again. "And time goes by, I see inesorabile.Lo About My Mother, tanned and tired, like a cow too old to build and to be macellata.Lei is there, in his limbo.E I do not live in my più.Lascio scivoli.Scorra.E that everything in the rare moments of awakening I realize how I'm wasting time, as little rimane.Sempre meno.E I would like to make things straordinarie.Lasciare a trace of my existence, and live forever be remembered in the pages stampate.Essere still alive and strong, and damned as a lover of pain are of ora.Amante ideal and a woman nonexistent. lover of that figure I want to be and never will . Lover of my books, my poeti.Dei my damned the masters . Of my damned lovers mental . Escape from the muddy waters of my thoughts and libreria.Gironzolo in the various departments, I browse, I stroke volumes indistintamente.Senza guardarli.Passo hand on those symptoms with slow, rhythmic steps to walking, breathing almost inesistente.Occhi half-closed, follow the path that the books I indicano.Mi block and grab the little volume that my index has so bloccato.Scelgo books. I do call.
My family has always been particolare.Mio grandfather with the pendulum of wax, my father with his magical arts traumaticoper rejection following the death of a friend, and I even misunderstood me stessa.Mio grandfather could find objects to provide for situations or small incidenti.Dopo each search followed a terrible headache, and he did not suffer from migraines after that intense frequente.Succedeva attività.Energia biochimica.Energia spirituale.Semplice coincidenza.Non interests me as it is called, but the thought that my quirks are generated by a magical component is not for me tranquillizza.Almeno some mental deviation . I watch the volume up, leggero.Bianco.è a booklet of eighty pages neanche.Tanizaki Jun'ichiro. The Demon . Suitable . I continue my research, but migraine attacks me and I choose the option that best semplice.Osservo various titoli.Virginia Woolf, Orlando.Lo grab almost to possess sessualmente.Lo approach the face and read the frenetic plot. Suitable . I'm distracted by the job that makes me asks if I need sobbalzare.Mi aiuto.Appena walks away, disgusted with known how close is the bar where I saw me in my io.Sicuramente ricerca.Magari thought I wanted to steal a book ... but who steals a book? Meanwhile, I placed a copy of Orlando and again in hand without looking at the title, the casual observer the colors, I recognize the issue. Going to the cash grab and I see no Banana Yoshimoto stop "Omen sad," by the time I manage to cercavo.Mi case where the fresh committed me and I pay the bill quickly without commenti.Lei hands me a paper bag with books well tucked in and I startup exit. Take an umbrella and humidity of leaking città.Incrocio many little people. Grey in their sobriety. Vecchietti curled up on themselves all uguali.Uomini incravattati, straight as rendered in their suits with accompagnatori.Volo banchieri.Giovani girls away from them and go direct to the station ticket treni.Compro a band kilometrica.Non matter the direction, but I need to get out of the usual routine.Salgo and take place in a carriage almost vuota.Un nice place near the finestrino.Mi shienale support for the extension and the gambe.Mi dozed off but I still hear the noise. The train is leaving and I feel the car shaking, glass and sedile.Un continuous and regular voices I sprofonfo numbs the senses and even more in the air and find a dormiveglia.Annuso nuovo.Un smell sweet smell, but not stucchevole.Delicato.Come your coming in from a florist in the early morning, when flowers are still closed and the smell is mild et elo him feel all light mattina.Un counterweight is positioned on the seat next to her arm and almost completely smooth bracciolo.Apro on my eyes and look so that match my pelle.Il arm is full of scratches, signs of self-inflicted violence bianchi.Con thin and tan (although minimal) you notice some più.Sono thin and thick, made with speed and cattiveria.Si see just by looking, but are evident when the arm is stationary and signs Luccin slightly in the light of sole.Lo eyes went from my arm that vicino.Anch 'it bronze, omogeneo.Liscio and perfect, almost marmoreo.Le veins protruded slightly sweet and forming trails winding throughout the limb. The joint of the elbow was a dark cavern which connected to the forearm dark shirt bianca.Era an arm of a woman, but learned too special to be a real donna.Troppo curato.La hands were perfect and degrees, but well short nails curate.Le and glazed with a clear white pearl, the court was not too vistoso.Malgrado nails were perfect, well shaped, and especially fresh manicure.Le knuckles was a bit edgy but overall there were two of the most beautiful hands I had ever seen in a person comune.Il my eyes jumped with joy on the breast, florid and hugs from the white fabric was slightly teso.Non disproportionately huge breasts, one breast was adequate but volgare.Pudico not enclosed in a V-neck created by the lack of the first two bottoni.Probabilmente the woman was foreign because her complexion was too uniform to be the result of tanning. The shoulders were broad, with the rest porporzionate . She was a tall, leggy and the physique of a modella.Era treated, we held the line, look and gave the impression that altri.Con the other hand clutching a handbag white, very semplice.Notai the pulse strong, sturdy boned, almost maschile.Ma the most attractive part of this pulse was a clear sign and marked at the junction between the forearm and polso.In those two inches of skin was a gash-white, lucido.I my eyes snapped to the face of donna.Portava sunglasses, even though it was a long day piovosa.Aveva took blondes that wind over the breast fell softly on her shoulders, creating a cascade across the golden bust of donna.Le lips were plump and dressed in a transparent pink and shiny, that made her look like glass creations.
The trip of the hand holding the purse startled me and I shrank shutter banging his elbow on finestrino.Imprecando I softly rubbed laparte sore and I dropped the bag he was carrying on ginocchia.La woman took off her glasses, revealing two wells of a green indefinito.Scuro.Pensai sottobosco.Si immediately bent down and picked up very slowly with elegance and a book had leaked from one pocket aperta.Io taken the bag and shook me to petto.Osservai the woman who watched me after reading the titolo.Mi asked if it was mine, I replied with a nod of capo.Mi asked if it was an interesting book I answered always with a slight nod, not looking at an indefinite point in occhi.Guardavo and savored that voice, sweet but at the same time profonda.Non deep as it can be a vocation of women, nor cruel and crude as that of a man . It was not a voice like that of the vulgar and false transgender televisione.Era a voice ... magnifica.Estremamente sensual, melodious, deep and adulta.Un mix of contrasts and velvety tone. savored. Tasted and I was motionless with eyes open and tense muscles to embrace borsa.Lei had swapped my strength for a given embarrassed by his appearance, now that I compreso.Scostò the arm from the armrest that separated us and relying on the book started to rise, looking at the tips of his scarpe.La expression exuded despair, tristezza.Uno look that traces back memories, abandonments, secret escapes, pain post-operatori.Vedevo rallentatore.Potevo to hear all about me his loneliness made of looks accusers, men who just wanted the "newness" of people that walked away disgusted with words of anger, hurt that looks like blades. He could not resist . Compartment was almost empty and seemed to be looking for another place.
Pirma it was completely up, I looked up and said
"Fermati.Rimani."
He sat down and for the first time sorrise.Uno of those smiles that you do not forget. Sincere . A smile full of thanks that she had missed too many times and that waiting too long.

How To Play Pokemon Platinum On Mac

I support the initiatives of these guys!

Does Opalescence Expire

Spartak-Milan Junior Camp: Italy teaches young Russian players

My editor said it was for a serious site about the Italo-Russian relations is not appropriate - but only for the blog. Edit the time was not - Was going to Oxford. Therefore it is necessary to put in the blog =)

this summer FC Spartak did not become restricted to carrying out its own annual children's camp on the football and organized an additional program with the Italian partners - so there Junior Camp «Spartak-Milan. Initiative was supported by the bank Intesa. About 20 people (mostly children customers and bank employees, applicants first) were able to participate in the camp free for the rest of the cost amounted to 15,000 rubles (300 euros).

Opening camp was held in Moscow at stadium "Spartak" the Igor Netto. Two energetic young coach from Milan Matteo Conte ( Matteo Cont ) and Cristiano Callegari ( Cristiano Callegaro ) strongly taught English words for the return teams younger players. "Will you what team you are sick, who do you like how to play?" - Matteo interested in each a small party. "From the Russian - Arshavin" - offered a fair-haired boy. Kids broke into groups to see how they work with the ball. From Matteo were those younger (9-11 years), with Christian - a team older (12-14 years). As long as the warm-up, parents in the stands watching what is happening and shared their impressions and expectations. "We are here on the advice of a friend, - said Svetlana Starkov, mother of 12 year old Daniel - son, we played for the District Kids Club Zamoskvorechie, enjoys football, even though the family no professional sports are not engaged. " «We have come here specifically from Ekaterinburg - continued Vera, mama fifth-former Sasha Portnyagina - so that you can write that the children came from all over Russia ( smiles ). Sasha I played professionally in the mini-soccer. Team VIZ-Sinara ", which he represents, has become this year's champion of Russia."

- You would like to have your son become a professional footballer? - In turn I'm interested.

- It is unclear what will happen next - neither me nor him. Small yet. I guess I somehow scared even happens for him when I see how many injuries in athletes (basketball's the daddy). Besides, a lot of what Alex is fond of besides sports. I'm not working, all the forces on it goes.

- Probably a little time to study is ...

- Just not - Sasha I A-student, but still manages to play the saxophone - the truth, the teacher assigns exercises between workouts.

With kids 9-11 years already hard at play: "Beat, Cristiano! (Ronaldo - annotated.) "- Shouted the goalkeeper. "Pasuy, pasuy, daaaaa, gool!" - Heard cheers and laughter. Meanwhile, guys Older still work out with Cristiano strike tactics, moving sluggishly across the field. "And why are they still train?" - Surprise asks organizers boy from the younger group. "Because they're older and they need longer to torment." "In fact, it's all we practiced for so long because, under some guys have played well as play for a club, and some even see the ball first time and came in sandals on the field. In Milan we will not see - In this respect, the Milan soccer camp takes only those who are "sick" football "- says Christian. Then run up and the children themselves - the first training completed. «How do you like your first day?" - Interested in Roma and Sasha Ledneva Portnyagina. The boys choir respond that everything went well. "Will Soon professional players! "- I say, smiling. "Well, I probably would not want to play professionally - it's only up to 30 years, perhaps, then 34, 35 ... and that without higher education do? "- not for years seriously argues Roma. "And you have to do our team to make it hit the next time the championship the world? "- interested in both guys. "Oh, it's impossible!" - Laughs Alex. Roma also reflects: "The desire to be, probably, and that our players all believe that they are stars, but it is not so. " "Set No - the second teammate Sasha - are 2:0 - and has already relaxed, consider themselves victorious."

While children and parents get acquainted with the program next week (daily intensive training, an autograph session and a master class with the former youth team coach Franco Baresi of Italy), Cristiano and Matteo are sitting on the steps near the stadium - there are a couple of minutes to rest. «Home - That all were satisfied after workouts. Because we are here to teach them. And if someone has something not turns out, it is important that kids have not been upset by this at the end of the day to their own failures on the background of the success of other, more successful colleagues, they were not demoralized, "- they say. At present, training completed. coaches begins For the cultural program "Meet with Moscow." By their admission, there is nothing more fun than traveling to different countries and cities (well, of course, except for football).

«By the way, yesterday we were looking for a stadium" Lokomotiv "- says Matteo - and stumbled on some ruins. Today - The second attempt. I do not know if we can find the stadium, because not all Muscovites know where to train your teams - Spartak, CSKA. Russia - this has definitely not a football country, "- smiling coaches.

remains to add that one of the first steps to ensure that it still has the football, seems to be made - to training for the new Russian team started the world's leading teams - including, and AC Milan.

Anna Leonova