Itching skin.
Scratched to the scar.
P:”Do you see that?”
R:”That?”
Orange eyes.
A guy knee’s another stomach.
And leave him here.
He passes next to us.
Bang his shoulder against mine.
Throws a punch.
Grab it.
Send it back.
Hits his own jaw.
Clench.
Spit.
P:”?”
R:”Leave him to the floor.”
The one he kneed down get at him.
Pummels his head.
Weak hits.
And that dick’s already confused.
He takes hit after hit.
P:”The street’s busy.”
R:”People don’t mind that.
We shouldn’t either.”
We walk down the pavement.
It’s been redone.
It’s a nice finish.
Looks glidy.
Slippery.
P:”No accidents over here.”
R:”Cars are used less hereby.”
P:”What then?”
R:”Public transportation is becoming more consistent.
More affordable.
And more secure.
It may be safer than walking on the pavement.”
P:”I don’t see buses.”
R:”The most efficient way is the Underground.
There are tramways as well.”
P:”Never take any?”
R:”If you want a short relaxing ride, the tramway would be for you.”
Itching skins.
No Shots, no barks.
No insults, no injuries.
Only people scratching their arms.
P:”I want to be honest with you.”
R:”To which extent?”
P:”I want to know what I can ask you.
Even if you don’t answer.
Be sure you don’t snap.”
R:”Did I ever?”
P:”Not yet.”
R:”And?”
P:”I want to tell you what I see.
Knowing that you won’t immediately reject it.”
R:”Will it pollute me?”
P:”These people.”
R:”?”
P:”We only visit this block until now.
I don’t know how large this city is…
These people, their skin isn’t right.
Their eyes either.”
R:”Maybe a liver failure.”
P:”And they go at each other.”
R:”You speak as you’ve never seen this.
You look quite familiar with violence.”
A couple behind us.
Can’t see them.
Their lips are squishing.
Drizzling.
Can hear the saliva dripping.