25 juin 2011


Pradėjau rašyti kažką panašaus į apsakymą ir būtų malonu jeigu perskaitytumėt ir įvertintumėt. Žinočiau ar verta rašyti toliau;D P.S. rašliava rašyta anglų kalba. Net nežinau kodėl.

Jackie wasn't one of those girls that you would consider extraordinary beautiful. She had beautiful body, though. But something inside her shined so bright, that Jackie made you think that she is the most beautiful, graceful and absolutely the smartest person in the world. She definitely had that spark that made her so insanely irresistible.

It was a plain boring day in Chicago. Clouds gathered together and it seemed that it was going to rain, but no - clouds stayed there for a whole day and it hadn't rained a single drop of water. The weather that day was muggy.
I remember Jackie saying that she hates these kind of days, when you do not know whether to go out or not. Then she opened the window of our not very spacious apartment and lit up a cigarette. I couldn't imagine Jackie without a cigarette between her skinny fingers. But smoking suited her so well. Just like anything else. Anything she tried, anything she would put on - it would just look like it was made exclusively for her. It was insane, God knows I was unimaginably jealous.
- You know, Camille, - she then said to me, - I don't know if it's worth it. All that risk...
- It will pay off.
Then she looked at me with wondering eyes. I knew she wasn't sure about this whole robbing thing. But we needed money. We needed money more than anything at that moment. We could not pay our rent, leave alone the fact we hadn't ate normal food, except for disgusting burritos, for a whole month. Whole fricking month!
Jackie kept puffing on her Marlboro Gold cigarette . I looked at my Smith & Wesson four inch revolver. I loved guns. I remember, when I was a child my dad used to collect them. I would look at them for a whole day. Papa wouldn't let me touch them. He used to say that those guns meant world to him. Well, I guess it did, since one day he packed his guns, a small suitcase with his clothes and left us. Mom cried so loudly, she practically begged him not to leave. I watched him as he sat into his old car and drove away. It's the most painful memory in my life. That is why I'm not going to have a family. Too much shit to go through. I want to live on my own.

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