car, we proceed to the Massachusetts. There's music in the background, as always.
He drives with both hands attached to the steering wheel, his face is serious, deadly serious, so serious look like it was unaware of all that mass of land out there.
"You're a bitch. A bitch. And I've lost all this time I wanted to believe that at least good. Did you know spit in my face all the most terrible words I could not even make you hear me say account of what for me were terrible. Or maybe you did it on purpose. As you said 'I hope you're all right'. But all is well what exactly? All right after you came to tell me about your last fuck included 'thanks for listening,' after I said 'I love you' and I've said 'let's keep in touch'? I hate to waste. Spit on me all those things, but you have in mind that at one point took over the exasperation, that does not remain indifferent to all your stupid things, God knows what I like, but ... I do not want to hear. You're not my friend, you're a bitch! "
He went on that long road. With the background music, king for a day.
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