The first glass helped my fear to fade away for a couple of hours as my vision became blurred. My mind was reckless and my step got lighter at each sip and soon we found ourselves covered in the bluish lights of screens. Dancing would be good, I thought.
I could not stop the stream of words that made me calm down and trip with the flow for a while or more, and neither my mind nor my body I wanted to strip. I breathed night air mixed with thick smoke that we had both produced - my skin covered with creeps - I stretched my back hard enough to feel the fabrics of my clothes glued tightly to my breasts. With the loud beat we moved, as the sleep embraced the neighbourhood, blowing the smoke in each other faces and emptying another bottle of which quality was none of our concern. My hips made circular moves right with the music, causing my jeans to slide down a bit, uncovering more gooseflesh of mine. I could not resist to rise myself to his lips just because I love to mingle with male white tank tops barely covering the chest when we nearly are one. I melted just as the colours of his arm in the mixture of spicy posh fragrances that made me feel high when I tried to catch my breath. I let his hand clench on my neck and I watched it all escalate. What if I die tomorrow, I said. And it all went this way, when I lost myself in the trip hop maze.
