A Vendremanche, it stank of shit, sewer and sweating, but deep. It was another day, a day train sitting on one buttock. The sweat was dripping from everywhere and arose in passing on my temples like cubes of Jell-o. A swarm of flesh-head studs fragrant buzzed in my ears.
The car was traveling at full speed tip-ups with his jubilant frame between each station. To shocks in the machine, a compact mass of meat had to tighten against my legs, my shoulders, my arms, my head and sometimes my mouth. Asphyxia threatened, my limbs became numb, my chest was choking, my butt numb. And then a new tremor led the flock to port. Rolling, pitching, rowing dreamed ship. I took the opportunity to draw quickly a few liters of oxygen troubled that I filter through the fabric of my sleeve. But I was not moving. Me my jump seat trophy. I had hard won.
First, it took me enter the car. The door was gaping open like a monstrous fart. She offered to see the bottom of his gut where a shapeless heap of human piled like worms still determined to stay there and do not move. They were so numerous that some of them disgorged a foot or arm. The pale face their sad and gray, painted the glue from the resignation and indifference seemed threatening.
I spotted a narrow gap between white collar and a bespectacled young guy wearing a helmet insulation Music. The fight promised to be fierce. Other fighters had abandoned dock. I found myself alone with the golems of the morning. I held my breath and suddenly threw myself headlong into this formless matter. Arms, elbows made me strength. I forced my ass by helping me to push myself and slip into the narrow space under. The white collar began to growl, forced back by sticking more to the bellies of others. I ignored and continued the fight. I finally managed to put my feet inside and even though they exceeded, I knew I had won the first race. The starting signal sounded and the door closed like a zipper that would hardly have to slip.
After three stations, the volume of the mass had melted a bit and I had the opportunity to monopolize, greedy, and on a buttock, the seat occupied by an old lady. I especially was faster than the woman who was eyeing the bun for a long time. But the following stations had re-inflated the balloon and thus I found myself half the time tossing and suffocated on my jump seat. I experienced these pressures in a good half-hour but not capitulate. From the looks of hatred pierced me, me, I refer them the best of my smiles.
Finally, I arrived at the destination. To exit, same fight, upside down. Arms, elbows, bellies, black eyes or absent ... My station was "the Forks", and I believe I had seen the devil in passing the gate.
The car was traveling at full speed tip-ups with his jubilant frame between each station. To shocks in the machine, a compact mass of meat had to tighten against my legs, my shoulders, my arms, my head and sometimes my mouth. Asphyxia threatened, my limbs became numb, my chest was choking, my butt numb. And then a new tremor led the flock to port. Rolling, pitching, rowing dreamed ship. I took the opportunity to draw quickly a few liters of oxygen troubled that I filter through the fabric of my sleeve. But I was not moving. Me my jump seat trophy. I had hard won.
First, it took me enter the car. The door was gaping open like a monstrous fart. She offered to see the bottom of his gut where a shapeless heap of human piled like worms still determined to stay there and do not move. They were so numerous that some of them disgorged a foot or arm. The pale face their sad and gray, painted the glue from the resignation and indifference seemed threatening.
I spotted a narrow gap between white collar and a bespectacled young guy wearing a helmet insulation Music. The fight promised to be fierce. Other fighters had abandoned dock. I found myself alone with the golems of the morning. I held my breath and suddenly threw myself headlong into this formless matter. Arms, elbows made me strength. I forced my ass by helping me to push myself and slip into the narrow space under. The white collar began to growl, forced back by sticking more to the bellies of others. I ignored and continued the fight. I finally managed to put my feet inside and even though they exceeded, I knew I had won the first race. The starting signal sounded and the door closed like a zipper that would hardly have to slip.
After three stations, the volume of the mass had melted a bit and I had the opportunity to monopolize, greedy, and on a buttock, the seat occupied by an old lady. I especially was faster than the woman who was eyeing the bun for a long time. But the following stations had re-inflated the balloon and thus I found myself half the time tossing and suffocated on my jump seat. I experienced these pressures in a good half-hour but not capitulate. From the looks of hatred pierced me, me, I refer them the best of my smiles.
Finally, I arrived at the destination. To exit, same fight, upside down. Arms, elbows, bellies, black eyes or absent ... My station was "the Forks", and I believe I had seen the devil in passing the gate.
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