Cover Up For Pigmentation

Idealization

"I believe you." Said the old man.
Not a word more.
He rose from his chair and taking a brown scarf in hand, came out of that bar.
Forever.
The head of the other, which could be seen in the dim light of the big shoulders, too narrow in a purple jacket, remained low, reflecting perhaps a few drops of beer, I had seen a moment before bursting onto the table.
Two bottles.
an ashtray.
A cigarette in the balance.

I seemed to see it tremble.

and considered whether the cigarette was still spewing smoke Lu ... I
in the balance.
Without a word to say, without brain stimulation.
Kaputt.
watched the smoke build a wall of dense fog ...

"I believe you, 'said the old man.
The other sighed, barely managing to keep his head raised.
I walked slowly to the table.
As soon as I saw the man smiled at me, kind.
"Lord ..."
"Yes?"
I wanted to understand what it meant for one person to be trusted by another, and understand why be should be so hopelessly bitter.
I wanted to say: "I believe you! She told the truth. The truth wins. The truth will win if shared! "
" Yes? "He smiled again.
"I bring something else?"
"No, thanks."
I smiled at him, kind.
And he stood up, leaving money on the table.
picked them up wet from the drops of beer.