World-Wolf - (ENGLISH)

Chapter 10

I arrived at hospital in a few minutes. Actually, I had met Patrick and he had told me "Get in. I'll drop you off. Holy shit, you're like new" Obviously, he was referencing to my face.

So, before to get in the hospital, I thought it was good to wash my face. Patrick left me close to a crapper built near the hospital. In memory of a guy who died because he held the shit too much time in his organism, the mayor had announced to build a crapper. It should be a good achievement a crapper in your memory.

Tragedy in the County was lived intensely. They did strikes, wrote quotes copied from Google and craps like that. I gotta admit that they have the skill to forget all in less than 24 hours.

There was that Greek philosopher, that asshole, Aristotle: she says that an arc-tell should finish in one day. In the County, they used that kind of narrative technique. You can call them moron, but they applied Aristotle narrative technique. Anyway, I had heard a boy arguing about the technique one day, that's why I know it.

I'm doing it again. A person told me that I wander off from the main arguments. He used all those badass terms about human psyche which make you feel like a goat. He is a humble dude, nothing more.

Anyway, I gotta tell about mom, this is the goal right now: I went in the crapper in memory of Jack Gallagher - there was even a commemorative plague - and I washed my face with some water. Jesus, the sink became red. The water was iced, though. Some asshole had brought the boiler. Asshole break-boilers you gotta know that while you are taking a damn shower, your boiler is gonna be smashed and your damn veins is gonna be iced like my face was that day. Signed by Levi Minger with a big fuck off attached below.

As I lifted my face, I saw the reflection of myself through the mirror. I realized I might have become a Harvard professor able to change the entire world. I started laughing, though. Boys, how much laughing. I was sneering as loud as grandma did. I didn't notice that in the Jack Gallagher's crapper there was a man. When he got out from the compartment, he stared at me like I was a joke person.

"Do you want to laugh with me?" I asked him. Another mind breakdown because of an unusual question. You didn't have to ask strange questions to County's dwellers. I didn't want to have them on my conscience. I'm not ready for this kind of responsibility. How much am I boyish?

With that question I convinced the dude that I was mental. After the prank, I got out from the crapper and I told Patrick he could go. He didn't let repeat it twice that he was already gone.

There were some legends about County's Hospital. The olds with callus on their hands called it "The spot of not coming back". A war veteran sustained an argument. One day some doctors of the County's Hospital told the veteran that he was fine and that the pain at rib would be gone within days. Boys, I'm not telling you lies, the veteran had got a crashed spleen. Stuffs to back up with a film documentary.

I wasn't a witness. Those are stories of old people. Those ones who don't do nothing but criticize the generation and all. Those ones who hold the Phonism Flag, in brief. This is not a literary movement and all. It's just what Levi Minger thinks about those assholes that have unhooked two atomic bombs (ask to Hiroshima and Nagasaki inhabitants), penetrate the atmosphere, let to blow out several nuclear power plant (if you are up, ask to Chernobyl inhabitants. Oh, right. Cleaned Up), pollute the seas with black shit (if you looking out "black shit" in my vocabulary, you'll find a voice which tell you oil).

I don't know why I should believe to Phonism adepts.

Anyway, I got into the hospital. I had hidden the suitcase behind a bush. The telephone operator was on the phone and guess what was she doing? Obviously, she was playing at candies riddle game. Boys, I was getting very furious.