Dog Lung Cancer Lip Ulcer

SME

The sky is brown. Somewhere, between the columns of the blind. Ned has already siffig a cigarette between his fingers, determined, and while he herumknibbelt on the filter, tobacco flake crumbs on my bed. He is a bit drunk, probably, maybe it's just the stale Kotzegeruch hanging in space.
"Come here." He scratches his hairy belly. I do not react.
"Ey. Come here." It is not particularly great, the belly, but very, very hairy. It has almost anything from a teddy bear, if Ned makes the muscles of both arms pointing to large ears.
"Can not just," I mumble away. I solder, again. In principle, I can not be a whole lot like it, but customers do not wait.
The goggles slipped on my sweaty brow.
"The view you have to you," he ignored me completely, pulls on the broken foot, and yawned extensively before he tears open a new beer. "The view you have to you."
"No need."
suppt in the background every now and again a surreal news anchor from the can - the reception is bad, full of interruptions, so far below. It is as one would doze, is running television.
"Man, now come at last. DC is' over."
Impatiently I push up the glasses, a frame-up, and take a quick look at the TV. Snow is a thing of the past, but also holograms can get stuck or disappear. Especially from a so-cheap Can.
"And?"
"Wait, the same."
The newscaster howls without saying something clear, a short stretch of road is in the picture, streaky, pollute, overshadowed by all the houses behemoths. Just because in this part of town, the streets still in use, does not mean that anyone wants. It is often the case that there is no other way.
There are a few people in the picture. A few and a few more. They are all stacked in a heap, motionless, in the background is burning something. I put the goggles back on - everything is green - and go back to work.
"Man You have being scrutinized not correct," protested Ned.
"Yes, I have."
"Can not be. Then you but that would be noticed."
a moment I think only then do I pause my work again.
"What struck you?"
"That was our street, you moron."
"Sure?"
"Look out the window," he shows up and shakes his belly, "convincing yourself" excel at almost cynicism. Although I guess that something - anything - from up here could well see yet. Apart from collapsing suffocating miasma, as soon as you open the window.
"Oh," I murmur only, "Shut up."
And go back to work.