Silver Wrapping Paper

New Mexico. 1948

I like driving at night in the desert. But tonight I have no time to enjoy the cool walk. Tonight I'm here to work.
There have been several accidents on this road, in the last two weeks. Without witnesses or survivors. Only wreckage. Cars destroyed, fly out from the ribbon of asphalt at full speed. Wheels exploding vehicles flying in the air and fall to the ground. In addition to fifteen dead, traveling salesmen, tourists and employees. Normal people. The latter was County Sheriff, a couple of nights ago.
Yesterday, finally, someone noticed that something is wrong. So in the end they decided to call me. Because this is the kind of things I am, for some 'time.
Until last year, I was a police officer in Los Angeles. I sensed that things were going pretty strange in the city. But I thought it was just sick. Deformed. With skin diseases.
Then one day, in Chinatown, I had to blow a motherfucker four meters high, with pointed horns and wings. All red. I blew up with the fireworks of the Japs half a block, to pull him down. Do not even remember how many deaths were among those torn from him and those caused by my sudden off-season. I was kicked out by police. At noon, I no longer had a job. But see how the United States: not even twenty-four hours later, I had a new one. Hunt down the invaders.
What invaders? Well, we have combined a mess with atomic bombs. In short, we have opened a passage to another world. A world populated by monsters with fangs that have nothing better to do than come here and try to kill us all.
I am part of a secret. So secret that the CIA is compared to the Mickey Mouse Club. We have several sections. Some seek to defer more possible when people will realize what is happening. Others, the sorcerer's apprentice, working to close the damn gate. I deal with deletions. I spare the bastards, when I find them. A good job, after all: go around, meet the monsters kill them. If you do not think your boss is Adolf Hitler, is amazing. But then, Uncle Sam does not keep a grudge. You can be a murderess and genocidal madman, but if you are the best magician in the square just as it is needed ... Well, welcome aboard, son.
fucking life.

However, I left this morning with a flight from Los Angeles. Target, a military base in New Mexico. There I have given a car, a road map and a pat on the back to wish me good luck.
According to our local branch, there's something strange in the values \u200b\u200bof the measurements of energy on this path. They should have thought to do it, the readings, without waiting for a sheriff to leave us some skin and you decide to take it seriously. Even I know that the first tests of the bomb have made here. Eggheads of my boots.

The street is deserted. I was told that the incidents of recent days have convinced many drivers prefer secondary roads. Or not to drive at night.
What they see, those poor, in order to destroy the gas until the car to fly off the road on a road as straight as the barrel of a gun? No doubt something scary and hostile. Something that prompted them to flee as if they had the devil at his heels. In fact, he probably had too.
remains a fact: the corpses showed only injuries caused the accident. Which is strange though, because demons love the torture and suffering. The deaths in recent days, however, were all rather quick or immediate. I look forward
. I have just passed the 2. Of sleep, not even the shadow keep me on pills and coffee, which I took before going to drive. I only have a great boredom. I keep an eye on the road, with hands on steering wheel, ready to react to unexpected minimum, but there's nothing to see, nothing to do. Nothing happens. I have not even seen a car, since I embarked on the road an hour ago. Another ten minutes and so I will be the next dead. Suicide out of boredom.
Hell, I have to invent something.
In fact, even know what.
The machine I have under my ass is not any machine, even though it may seem from outside. The secret is under the hood. When I have time, those of the base here I was advised to be careful. The engine is an experimental model. It should be strong, very strong. The body and all other parts are modified and reinforced to withstand the maximum operating speed. So far no one has ever achieved. No one has yet had the guts to push so hard.
Well, I think, maybe I will not be what Domer the beast, but at least I have the satisfaction of hearing how strong buck knows.
I turn off the radio, now bored with the music and get ready to hear the song of the engine.
So far I have had a normal cruising speed. Nothing that I had not already done with other machines. Now start to crush the foot as it should. The engine responds immediately as an obedient horse and the road begins to flow stronger.
Acceleration is smooth. The breeze coming in from the open window turns into a strong wind.
Better, better already.
Checking the reaction of the gums with a series of quick shots of the steering wheel left and right, as if addressing a slalom. Everything perfect. Satisfied smile in the mirror.
Then the smile freezes on my face: I see a sort of blue glow, like a flash at the edge of my field of vision on the left.
Now there's something, next to the machine.
Something that runs on a pair of long hind legs, which has a slim body covered with scales, almost non-existent arms and a big mouth full of fangs. I am traveling at 90 mph and he is next. And look at me. His eyes gleam like fire.
A demon, a fucking demon.
Now I know what would be the right thing to do: grab the gun, point it through the open window, pull the trigger and then go back and pick up the pieces of this bastard. I know, but I do not do. I can not get it.
I do not want to do it.
What do I do?
Accelerate. Only accelerate.
I want to push this car beyond its limits.
I want to feel the wind on my face, I see the world fades and goes over to a small spot of heat.
I want to feel the burn gasoline, tires, asphalt.
I want to hear the roar of the engine and the wind howls on me.
I want to run, become the wind, fire, steel, asphalt, rubber. There
nothing else. Nothing outside of the road, the car, the thing that stands beside me.
Nothing beyond its fiery eyes and his voice in my head. A voice tells me faster, faster, faster.

A voice I know.

was 1942. In France. I was there as a member of a commando sent into enemy territory. Our mission: to help the local resistance, to prepare the ground invasion in the future.
Three months of hell, culminating in an action or almost suicidal.
A big piece of resistance, one that he knew many things and was the only one to know them, had fallen in the hands of the Nazis. He had been captured during the most successful remediation that the Wehrmacht had ever put together. Those of us who survived could never forget the lesson of that raid the Boche have given us. They were plunged into the valley where we had mass refugees, were emerging from nowhere and within ten minutes, the forest was swarming with gray uniforms. We were enveloped in such a network.
of my group were left alive in a dozen, from that day. Others were rescued on the other side, cut off from us. We knew it was not over: we had to take back his head, a Marseilles who called himself the Dark. We had to do it now, we had no time to wait for the rest of the men gather together to us. But as desperate as we were, we could only conceive of a desperate plan: raid the prison where he was held. A frontal assault, weapons in hand. A plan so crazy and impossible that the Nazis had not even taken into account.
balls proud. They were so convinced that they had destroyed us thought about the possibility that someone would return to resume the Dark.
So instead of more money than we could ever imagine, there just before we found many. Precisely for this reason we were able to free the Dark, but it was not a walk. All my mates came under enemy fire. In the end I was left alone. Frog loaded it on the passenger seat of a side-car and threw me on the run, towards the latter part the plan. This required that
to flee through a tunnel, the only way to break quickly from the valley. , We had already undermined, before leaving, but we could not afford to leave behind someone who did jump the posts at the right time. We had even more radio-commands to the detonator at that point, was already so if we had the ammunition. So we set a device to watch, establishing a reasonable time.
One time, when I go into the tunnel, pursued by a truck packed with SS and their devilish fire, was about to expire.
I accelerated, turning the knob up almost breaking my wrist and receiving heartfelt, at that time, the voice. The voice said louder. Then I saw the world blur into an indistinct mass of color, darting at the sides and in front of me disappear.
remember having laughed at some point. I felt the bike, a sturdy German motorcycle, engineering and mechanical state of the art, to plead for mercy.
would not hold much longer. I would not right any longer. Not even the Dark would not hold for long.
I knew it, but I do not care about. At that moment I was free. It was as if I belonged to the same damp wind that I had on the face of that air that smelled of earth and rock. The war, the Dark, Hitler, none of them mattered. I no longer mattered. I just run. Be fast. Faster than any other shit I have ever believed to be fast.
We have already seen, now I am and who runs alongside. But it was another time and the world was different: I could not even see his ugly mug, but only feel its presence.
In 1942 he was the explosion that bringing down the mountain behind me to call me back to reality. I was just out of the tunnel. It was like the roar of a dragon. The Germans were in all, down to Fritz. I had only continued slowing of the little that was enough to not blow up the engine, but no longer feel that sense of exhilaration. The part where I live to be fast was over. Shortly thereafter, I stopped the bike and I would be dragged back in Marseille on a long flight through the woods.
Now, to save me is a big red light that flashes on the dashboard and a siren sounds at regular intervals. There are car alarms, I warn that I'm reaching the maximum speed. I must just given us in with the throttle, without even realizing it. A big red light flashes on the dashboard, while a siren sounds at regular intervals.
The thing with eyes of fire is always there. But he has more power. Not on me.
I will not try to go faster than him. I will not do because I know it is not possible. I will not make his game.
If I remember something in the classroom, this is a demon of the second class. Ideological demons, call them. Vices, in other words. Personifications of vices. Minor Demons, though. Stupid bullies who have not yet figured out something fundamental to their survival in these parts: they have a body.
But I know a way to understand this stubborn boy to be a simple idea that is different from being an idea embodied in a physical form and in this way is a good turning to the left. Almost
I can see the surprise in her eyes as a ton of good metal American invests in a cruising speed more suitable for a runway than a road.
The machine is heavy and reinforced to make them stand high speeds, but the idea is embodied in a tough body. For a moment I'm afraid that the car will not hold the road. That I will be the next to leave the pens. But it is only a moment: the rear wheels first jump on something that offers resistance and then relents. I'm back with all four wheels on the asphalt. The car swerves, tires hiss but it's nothing that can not control.
Now I know that if it were to go wrong with the demons, I can try with the car races.
Here is the car on track and at a normal speed. In the mirror I see now that the demon is on the ground, writhing in the street. Try to stand up, but her leg is gone. Poor guy.
I make a U-turn The lights illuminate it. She looks at me. Do you realize what is about to happen It looks like a deer paralyzed by fear.
Accelero. The engine seems to have suffered little effort first. 88 mph in an instant. The monster growls with anger, but I do not feel nearly so.
The impact this time is truly devastating. The machine makes a good jump, while an explosion of organic matter fills the windshield. Something comes out of the window well. It stinks worse than shit, but now I'm used to.
I think the pig is gone. To be safe, I put the back and step on again.
Then do it two more times. I like the noise it makes.

Mission accomplished.
According to the agreements, should I return the machine where I got it. I look forward
. It's still early. I still have too much adrenaline in my body, too much excitement here to close.
I clean the glass to the good with the wiper. I remember seeing a car wash, about fifty miles from here. I'll stop there for the full and for me to clean the glass well before leaving. Maybe even a slice of apple pie, if the diner is open. And then run again.
Should I return the machine where I got it, it's true. The fact is that I'm curious to see how long it takes to get to Los Angeles. I turn off the radio, roll down the window at all and let the engine sing a serenade to the demon of speed at which we made the skin tonight.



Alessandro Vicenzi, 1979, he worked at Ayaaaak.net and was among the authors of the collective novel "The Power of Eymerich. From time to time write fanfiction for the site MarvelIT .
For the record, has never driven any vehicle more powerful than a Hello.

Bmx Jump Ramps To Buy

Matthew's heart was pumping a thousand, did not believe he could beat this. His hand was looking for something to shake nervously. She smiled a quiet and safe and that scared him even more. She had to drive him there would succeed.

Only an hour before he was sitting at the bar, quiet with no particular thoughts in my head sipping his Jack Daniels straight. Suddenly a girl in the other had drawn his attention, was certainly not the prettiest nor the most flashy, but his dancing made her unique, almost a primitive tribal dance, so at odds but in the same way with the harmonized music that filled the room. The long hair forming a winding frame around the face, arms and body moving in a sensual symphony, while the fluttering of her skirt created hypnotic arabesques, anyone who approached her was involved in dance, as disciples around the teacher in a Sabbath.
Matthew found himself staring at was the first time he saw her, he could hardly look away, the evening was not right for certain things, had decided at the last to leave and still wondered how her friends had convinced to join in the usual room. His glass was empty, almost without realizing he had been drinking while watching the girl, turning after having laid it on the counter, he noticed that she was coming to him "He'll want something to drink," he thought curandosene not much. But if the
found himself smiling, now that was the closest he could see better, a special beauty, their eyes crossed, he lost in a cloudless blue sky, a sense of calm and serenity swept over him.
-Excuse me ask if ... - As if to anticipate the demand he was ready to pull out his pack of cigarettes - want to make love to me? -
Surprised by the application looked for a moment the girl's eyes seemed to blacks, dark as night no stars but it was only for a moment before returning to a bright sky lit by a smile of joy, remained silent for a moment that seemed eternal.
-... ...- you could not hesitant to say more.
He felt her hand shake in a gentle grip around his
-Well, are we going? you will not want to stay here at the bar! -
The girl smiled, a smile almost naive innocent. Matthew followed her to her car. Walking she hugged him clinging to him as if he always loved and not as if their eyes had just crossed for the first time. She made him sit in the front seat, sliding over to caress him gently to put at ease. In the parking lot of the local people were still passing, no slow-down in the watch, she snorted moving settled in the driving seat
-Here there are too many people. Give me the keys that I know a nice place-
Matthew could not resist it, without a word gave her the keys, the sky in the eyes of the girl calmed. Smiling, she walked for the first time brushing his lips in a slight
kiss-Thanks-whispers.

Pazza. was completely crazy.
Matthew could not think of anything else
Quickly moved away from the parking lot. She drove like a mad, braking and accelerating suddenly, almost without reason, ignoring the most basic safety rules, the lights on the roadside seemed blurred boundaries between them and the night, were leaving the city. The road began to climb and get lost in a forest becoming more devious, she did not slow down, even in the eyes of the boy seemed to accelerate even more, it seemed as if the street know that did all the days that crazy speed. At every turn he was sure that Matthew would be going out to crash into a tree, but miraculously managed to keep the car in the street. Nervous as ever holding the door handle so much to feel bad hand. He did not understand how he could do nothing, unable to try to react.

finally stopped in a lay-by on the roadside, the trees around them fomavano thick walls of a temple, illuminated only by moonlight.
She looked at him. He smiled. He moved
sitting astride on his legs. The
left to do, even if he wanted he could not resist, she felt paralyzed. The girl began to undress him persuasive, opening his shirt, she leaned over him, his mouth on his chest to kiss him and bite him, bites wild and hungry. He raised his eyes to be decided by him, his eyes no longer blue blacks were once again as the night, laden with such a desire to frighten the boy.
She opened his pants, lifted her skirt and denuded the beautiful legs, slid over him to hear him inside, to form a single body to begin to move and feed the desire that was burning, wild, restless. Where before they had left their mark on the lips now pressed almost nails it bled, but soon, she stopped too soon. Blacks in the eyes of the girl desire turned into disappointment, a disappointment as anger that burned down in the darkness about him.
Matthew saw nothing that the girl's eyes, a darkness that seemed to have hidden the moon in the sky and the woods around them. He was paralyzed by fear, under the pitiless assessment of the girl.

slow as the panting breath that becomes, in the quiet of her blue irises replaced the scary black among the treetops in the sky again to peep at the moon. In the girl's face the anger was replaced by an amused smile, as derision. Matthew stood motionless beneath her, watching her, just moved his lips to speak, almost apologetic, but she silenced him by touching his lips with a finger. He slipped away from him, leaving the car to walk towards the woods. As he felt paralyzed to follow with his eyes, he saw the clothes she vanished, nude turned to greet him to disappear like a ghost herself.

Not seeing her more, Matthew tried to relax on the seat closing his eyes. Now, left alone, he felt able to think about what had just happened but also what and how to go back.
eyes reopened shortly after. looked around, but it was no longer in the woods where they had left in the parking lot, sitting in the driver's seat with his clothes still open and the signs of bite and nail him.



Bencivelli Angelo, came into the world June 4, 1976, is finally deciding what to do when you grow. THIS is his blog.

Kate Nash Piano Letters

speed. My mind tells space-time split. I hate math and their simplification of reality with numbers and formulas. Well then speed as a myth of the futurists of the early Twentieth Century began with sequins and finished drowned in the blood of young people in a world war. No, better not. Better as fast as a bullet. But there is a downside. When you're as fast as a bullet to your side things are deformed, can not see, and you lose. To go straight to the heart and you lose the context and outline your vision is partial. And then it's over. The attrition rate is also rapidly consumes tires of the cars, but also burns the neurons of the brain forced to think a lot of things in a more limited time and always, damn formula. Yes, because the two variables are not as variable as they think the mathematicians. The time is always limited, so to make a lot of distance I have to increase the speed. Speed. I open my eyes and the guardian of the time that I bring to the arm, Egyptian curse?, Tells you that you have to be faster and start running. The history of Savannah, the lion and the gazelle is a sop to console us, or we tell ourselves we read it hung on the walls of public offices. English humor? Nonsense?. I climb into the car and began to push forward, fortunate who has a fast car but not my case, in front of me as a rule is a person who has the slower pace and the other side of the road transhumance of cars and trucks. Result: your temperature begins to rise, as the motor. It may happen that due to your speed someone or something makes you a picture, but instead of ending up on the front pages of motoring magazines and you earn a nice Multon points instead of increasing them in the world championship you will find yourself cut from the license. Late to work and you have to be fast because you have to dispose of the backlog. When I complain of this, the answer is "It 's the same for everybody." Ugh bastaaaaaa. I want to be black sheep. I hate the speed. If I want to get drunk to taste in wine in the glass lens feel all the flavors I do not want just stun me. Speed \u200b\u200bis not my god. Because it is a cruel goddess who wants to make the world smaller blood sacrifices. The sacrifice of my best friend. Without guilt. With you playing that night is also my best part. Yes I hate speed.



Subject Canella Clyde was born July 31, 1969 and has since lived in a small town in the province of Ferrara, called Alberone.
a child falls in love with comic books and then accompany him daily. To buy them in a cage is forced to do accountant and a lot of other things very boring and stressful, from which every now and then flee to the exhibition and meet his idols. It has a very patient woman named Benedetta, in name and fact, which supports him in waiting to get married.
Distinguishing features: long hair and an earring always to the left lobe

Which Cancer Jab Hurts More

"Are you retarded?"
"when?"
"What the fuck is the answer when?! One asks you if you are delayed and when you answer? "
" I knew if I was late! "
" 'fuck it, from here! "
Zeena Benjamin, Ben said he hated two things, the cherry popsicles, and that asshole Ryad when buying a cherry popsicle.
"The others were finished," it is justified to Algeria following the older boy in the yard.
"You're a retard Ry!"
"Why?"
"because he ONLY Dasser cherry popsicles dickhead! And you still go to him! "
" but he always tells me that the others must return, which put them over! "Gasped fighting jaw against the shell of ice.
"I'll take the piss," cried Ben disappearing dark oasis of concrete.
"Damn Dasser "muttered Ryad, freezing a tooth on the ice blood red and beginning to run to catch his friend.

MOTUS IN FINE VELOCIOR. Ben proudly exhibited
writing tattooed on his back while his neck muscles bulged against the bar every drop from up there could see the whole neighborhood, and every drop of sweat falling on the dust was a promise to it.
broke away from the bar with a thud and a cloud of dust, reached the pack, lit a cigarette and looked at them.
Laura was lean and white, licking ice cream and thought that one day she would go from there, maybe you would become rich and you would be well reconstructed breasts. Ryad
was Algerian, carefully choosing the tracks in the CD player, because the soundtrack is important, especially when the sun is coming, and thought that sooner or later he would Miha fact that music is that he understood.
Miha was mulatto, tall and fair, the cap on the head and the barrel between your fingers say a lot about what he thought of the world.
Remo, Mangiamele, was an Italian with dark hair, and the story of the scar on his cheek and now the dead cop knew even the walls.
the walls.
The walls of the yard singing a lullaby that only they could hear was a rhyme that was about theft and racing, smoke and jumps made of spit, piss and dust, blood and speed, because Ben always said to the boys, and the walls always listened to him: "Remember! there is only one thing that can beat us in speed! "
the walls of the yard did not matter what it was, and the other four had never finished the sentence.
Because there was no need, all in their hearts they knew what Ben was talking about.

The yard had badly worn four years, ten stories of concrete and metal, stairs, ramps and potholes, cans, cigarette butts, piss, shit, syringes and animal carcasses.
was supposed to be the largest shopping center in the city, there, in their merdosissima banlieue.
must have been the redemption of the district, became just another notch on the list of shame.
only became a huge skeleton of concrete and shit in the middle of a shit concrete even bigger.
But it was their home.
When the orphanage closed down, five of them were the only ones left, and the yard became their lair, their lair,
The walls of the skeleton had accepted them immediately.
The walls, which reminded.
In the beginning was the echo, the screams, the thud of sneakers, the cloud of dust, sprained ankle, broken wrists and kong vault on the lower walls, a few mattresses, a couple of sheets, and Remus, which bypasses the power cord.
Then came the rocks at the cans, the jump the chasms, somersaults with blood on his hands, slander and theft, was the TV, stereo, refrigerator and beds.
Then came the muscles and the sweat, the long distances and somersaults without blood on their hands, were accuracy and speed, and with them, stealing best.
They did for a living, and wanted to make the best of ways.
became their job, their mission, their war.
speed became a sob of broken under adidas shoes stolen, and serious breathing so slow as to seem the last.

"Laura six guard tonight," said Remus looking for some more 'flesh of the dried-up apple core. Laura shrugged putting
mouth in the last part of the ice cream cone.
Ben looked at his watch while the orange light of sunset colored concrete.
He walked to the edge and smiled, the shadow of the skeleton raping half the neighborhood, and on top of it his own.
For a moment he felt small and helpless, and the smile vanished from his lips, but it was a moment of weakness, soon after he became still a God
An apple core was close by finishing ten floors below.
"What we have tonight?" He turned running a hand through his blond hair matted and dirty.
"Tonight is the night cocaine," said Remo wiping an apple on the new new vest and biting. Miha
pulled back the hard-nosed hood, freeing up the rasta: "What the fuck are we to make of a shipment of cocaine?"
"I want an ipod!" Grumbled Laura
"SALE!" Snapped Ben closer to the stairs.
"What the fuck you talking about?! Since we do something? "Miha launched into space the dead of the barrel.
"Miha we need money, I'm tired of taking only what we need to live!"
"fuck you Ben, there's always gone well so is the life we \u200b\u200bhave chosen, what else do we need?"
"I want an Ipod!"
"silent Laura, you know what this means, Miha? "Said Ben with his back to the group and pointing to the words tattooed on his back.
"is Ben, I know!"
"means the movement is faster as it approaches the end! Miha look at us, we do have four years of this life shit, we run four years, and are four years that we do not stop, we live in a yard of cock that smells like piss Miha, do not you broke my balls? We must be faster than life itself to avoid ending up anal.
Fuck you! "S'infervorò" ... they are the greatest among you and I have not yet twenty years! We're burning too fast! we need a change, we need more, and we need as soon as possible, because you're doing everything too fast, and I'm tired of running! "
The four sat in silence watching him disappear up the stairs, the black tattoo on his back stood in their white nets as a warning branded on the skin, and as such, was burning. The smallest
raised his head and looked at his companions: "I want an Ipod!"

The sound of the zip broke the silence, then came the rustle of rasta against the cap.
springs of the "bounce" nodded decided in two small rebounds, as decided upon was the cracking of the teeth on the apple.
The headphones fit perfectly in the CD player halls of the Algerian boyfriend, and only for that evening's Sniper abdicated the throne in favor of some 'electronics, but only for that night.
"Two bags per person, no more" Ben spoke his voice muffled by the high collar of the sweatshirt black couriers should be four, we will deal with me and Remo, your first thought must be to recover the stuff, if you have any problems, run! Is that clear? "
The three nodded.
Ben ran his hand through his hair so blond it seemed white in the darkness of the yard, took a deep breath and smiled and courage "... there is only one thing that can beat us in speed!" The three nodded
again, this time smiling.
"You go!"
Ben was the first.
The whiteness of the hair left a trail in the retina in Riyadh, who smiled and pushed play in CD player. He felt the knee slightly
crack under the pressure, and enjoy the moments that precede the release of epinephrine.
The muscles of the thigh and calf shooting took breath, and when the dust realized that was raised was already too late.
Remo stopped the apple in his teeth and he was behind.
"Take care, be careful!" Miha bother looking at Laura. Laura smiled hello hello
doing with his hand, but the other was already in the wake of the three.
flexed their muscles and was immediately two floors below, the thick grass and caper cushion the blow.
They passed the fence of the yard with ease and began to climb. Ben
laced his fingers together and bend your knees "force"
Riyadh was the first, went with his foot on the clasped hands of Ben, who gave him the push needed to reach the balcony of Mr. Vignon, that although he was painting regularly always grateful and watering the plants, he could not understand why the paint continues to peel one night and one not, and because the plants were so damaged. They went all
, Ben helped to hoist himself and Remus.
From there, it was a walk to reach the roof. Four dark figures

it moves easily between the roofs of the suburbs, ran against the summer breeze that makes the eyes bright and sweatshirts necessary.
run and jump, jumping, and then jumped back and the soles of sneakers omnivorous stuff themselves with tiles, bricks, concrete and dust, they watered the puddles in the pipes leak and catch your breath when the distance between a roof and a Another was longer than usual.
The boys were smiling, some inside the neck of a sweatshirt, who behind an apple, and those who under a hood to the music.
Maybe tonight would have done something else, perhaps something that would not have been proud of, but perhaps for once they saw a possibility in their lives.
"Here!" The night and the race, were both interrupted by the voice of Ben Bright.
The four went to the house.
Three floors below them, three men loading boxes into a truck while he smoked a cigarette.
"Remo, on the other side, and down, Riyadh, down too, but from the street with Miha, I will go down from here!"
nodded and they parted. Miha
Ryad and went down through the main facade of the building and, once on land went to the house with caution in the alley, I could see the ass of the truck, and, within it, the shit that they should steal.
Remo touched the ground without a sound, smiled in the dark still with the apple in his mouth.
The man with the Marlboro between his lips, a few moments later, as he fell to the ground unconscious, he found himself thinking of an apple, to the sole of a shoe that crushed his cigarette on the face, a sharp pain in the teeth, the metallic taste of blood.
The man fell with a thud suspicious that the other three.
Remo rolled just below the truck body dragging with it the unconscious man.
One of the three turned around the truck to see what had happened at that moment Ben landed between the other two, and with quiet discipline put into practice what four years of Bruce Lee had taught him.
the entire burden of the body in the left wrist and then download it with violence to the solar plexus of one of the two men.
turned around, lifted his leg and threw it against the heel of the other jaw, which ruined the ground after a couple of laps.
Remo, from under the truck, grabbed his ankles the last one left standing and pulled him to fall face forward if doing so.
Everything was quiet for a few seconds.
"strength," cried Ben plan. Miha
Riyadh and ran into the alley, climbed on the back of the truck agile and opened a box, was full of boxes of phones, it opened another, ipod, yet another coffee.
a "classic," said Ryad and pierced a bag with the boxcutter, pulling out dirty white powder "but they do not watch TV?" he smiled pulling bags of cocaine to fellow waiting.
went down from the truck and drove away in a hurry.
"Shit," said Ben coming back.
Others saw him disappear and reappear in the alley a few seconds after "The ipod to Laura," she said, smiling and showing the box still packed.

roofs slipped slightly under eight feet tired, she goes back the way to the suburbs.
Ben's silence filled the ears of others.
He felt his pockets, swollen because of the bags.
was their leader, would follow him to hell, and he knew that was what they were doing at that time. He took a breath
uncertain in the race, shaking off the thoughts.

The skeleton was quietly.
"Laura!" Ben's voice echoed in the huge gaps in the long and dark.
There was a violent explosion of white boys groaned and put her hands before her eyes.
spotlights used for illumination, which were aimed at them, blinding them.
Plan, the guys opened my eyes, and two figures walking towards them against the light.
"Let go, asshole!" Laura squirmed while one of the two held firm.
"Cops!" Ben hissed through clenched teeth trying to recover his sight.
"just like that kid is a bit 'that we keep an eye on, and I was sure that sooner or later you would have done some shit!" The voice was hoarse and winger an ashtray.
Remo sprang forward like a thunderbolt past the lights and looked around quickly, "eleven, Ben!"
It has happened before, thought they had the element of surprise, they thought of being able to sneak away from home.
was not the first time.
It was not the first time ever.
big one let go on when Laura's nails Miha pupils in the violent penetration. Ashtray
turned to his companion who was screaming, and saw the adidas fall on its nose.
But soon after he saw the stars, the ones he saw, and felt the warmth of the blood and tears.
"Take them," cried dabbing his nose with his hands.
The five were already upstairs, ran.
"are you okay?" Ben asked looking at Laura.
The girl nodded.
"I brought the ipod after you do it!" Ben smiled.
Laura smiled too.

was not the first time.
The cops were predictable.
was like playing cops and robbers, that was what was basically a game.
The five escaped, the cops chasing them, it was easy, everything was always so predictable, a provides staging too many times.
stayed away from the skeleton would be at most a week, then they would come back, and they started over.
was how it worked, it was their life.
Ben smiled jumping from the edge of the background against a concrete pillar, sliding down.
The others followed suit and soon they were all in front of the fence. The
jumped with ease, as always.
and turned back.
in the skeleton, the flashes of breathless torches police tore a smile to each other.
had been easy. As always
.
The track began to run under their shoes, while the terrace of Mr. Vignon was preparing to be violated for the second time that night.
There was a bang.
Zeena Benjamin, said Ben, clasped hands and bent his knees turning to accommodate the feet of his companions.
It was then that he saw her. His
MOTUS IN FINE VELOCIOR.
was a slight shimmer in the dark
was fast.
was painless.
was repeated for years that his companions in misfortune.
was what he knew none of them could beat speed.
was a bullet.
was death.
Before collapsing, Ben smiled the smile of someone who admits to being defeated by the best.

The four boys stood still.
Standing in front of their friend. But do not look
him.
"What the fuck have you done? What the fuck have you done? "Ashtray, dabbing his nose, ran into a guy in uniform, and shouted.
The boy was Ben's age, or take a year less.
In a trembling hand the gun still warm.
Ashtray muffled cries of the ear by the whistle of the shot. On the face
two lines: one drop of a tear of fear and awareness.

The ipod still packed in the fall had slipped from his pocket.
Laura picked it up and wiped the blood with a strip of pink vest, while a tear ran down his face.
"There's only one thing that can beat us in speed," he sighed with Miha the voice of someone about to start crying, as he closed the eyes of his friend, his brother. "Until then we will do what we always do!"
"Stop," cried ashtray, but the darkness of an alley had already sucked the four boys.
cursed in silence for a moment forgetting his nose, blood and tissue.

On land, Zeena Ben, smiling with his eyes closed, motionless.
darkness, four figures defied gravity and speed, leaving behind their tears and thoughts.
bringing with anger and pain, would continue to do what they had always done.
And anticipating the warmth of a hug, hatred and revenge, followed them a short distance.
Smiling.



Giacomo Andrea Bevilacqua
born June 22, 1983.
editorial designer for the EURA 2006 after a number of "Detecrive Dante", "Trapassat Inc." free and stories, is now working with Bartoli on a new set for "Lanciostory. Character designer and storyboarder and cinema advertising.
writes and reads texts for theater, cabaret and TV.
His blog can be found HERE .

How Long Does Spotting Occur With Mirena

I put on my red leather gloves by pulling them right up to the elbow, lower the nose aviator sunglasses, hands on the wheel and are ready to go. The dog, in the passenger seat, looks at me confidently.
"This time we make it" I say.
We start in last place again. Warm up the engine while I try to gaze upon between the car ahead, is already in the car, Peter idiot who tries to woo her so pathetic. For a moment it seems that I glanced at his rearview mirror but we are at opposite ends of the pitch and it is impossible is watching me. It's disgustingly charming as ever. What would Penelope not you, what do you do ... I guess every evening, naked on my hood with only your scarf and your female drivers wear helmets, I pray, I beg, that you take by force ... ah but it will happen One day, I win and you'll understand that I am the fastest, best, and then you will come to me ... NO! Not a day, TODAY! I feel it will happen today. I can not fail this time.
I turn around and mock Slag brothers known, those fucking cavemen, a mystery how they manage to be the first in the standings with the cart, so I will have another wrong to rectify today. On my side of the band Clyde tries to provoke me, I smooth and mustache gave him a grin of defiance, not a problem, because I also unscrewed the bolts of all four wheels. I studied the route to the centimeter, I know where to accelerate, where to push and where to stop myself, I also know where to place traps in the event it were needed.
Motors roar in unison, the pilots are all in their places, the countdown begins.
The checkered flag waves.
A superb start, as usual. A 130km / h now I carry one of the top positions, I have a stronger hold and is quite easy to leave behind me the monsters of Gruesome and Sergeant, Clyde and his gang are still trying to adjust to block the wheels. The new V12 is a beauty that I mounted the tires 4x4 run perfect, not even feel them, I knew I had made the right decision, for rocky terrain of this kind are the best. Not even the prof. Pending, the scientist, decided to calibrate the shock absorbers for different types of soil in this track, I checked before departure. Idiots, idiots are just lucky, with no preparation, no knowledge, with their vehicles ridiculous, I see them trudging behind me, but I have no illusions, too many times I saw them in an impossible to win and replace at my expense, but not today, not today.
Overtaking Luke and his damned bear, just a hillbilly dick as he could choose a bear as a mascot, Rufus, and I drink nothing like Red, and I position it fourth.
I reach the 180km / h on the straight and go into the third.
front of me that idiot Peter, his six-cylinder engine is fast but is not strong, the thallium trying to tire him, I take the sandy stretch to close and pass him in turn, try to not hold back but Starmie suspension, I walk away while losing pieces behind me, goodbye moron, you're not so perfect as you think, are now third behind the Slag brothers and Penelope, I reinforced the chassis side just for this occasion, I put the fourth and next Slag brothers to them with determination and hope I see them veer off the road cursing, these troglodytes will it take a while 'to get back in the race. Penelope me and you, the dog barks with happiness, he started to believe too, that we see on the map to get around the mountain. I decide to maneuver now groped, tampa Penelope's car strong enough to make them wider than the curve as expected, the risk of accelerating me, me next to Penelope and grant you a heads up for a few minutes, then put the fifth and roared off over bumps, smoke signals for active safety, I'm sorry beauty, is the race.
We are half way and I have victory in hand, I do not have to do is maintain a constant speed, but a flash in the mirror catches my attention, the car of prof. Pending is behind me. I did not foresee a comeback so quickly, damn it, I scored a point on the maps excellent place for a few meters from the explosive and levarmelo balls, on the other hand is still far away, it might not be a threat, estimating that I have given a considerable detachment the other competitors, are undecided but I can not risk it, no I have to be sure, I must be the one to the finish. Turn the brake mountain, get down as fast as I can and place the explosives in the middle of the track. Allocation of losing half the benefit I had expected, but accelerates as I can, however, just in case. A few minutes later I see the prof. Pending approach the trap but is not limited to, the Penelope is glued, then the sergeant and then others, including I can see the damned Slag brothers who already have managed to reassemble. Damn, I did not hit Penelope, but now it's done, I hit the detonator and the charge explodes, I hear a roar behind me and saw the car of prof. Pending propel air through the fire, then disaster happens, the car Penelope's heels, the sergeant goes on to form a sort of springboard to the next car instead of getting bogged down and take advantage of the acceleration gliding find me attached to the ass. I press the accelerator with violence, do not breathe a second car, I reach the 230km/he continues to accelerate, but I can not sow, that the brothers of shit jalopy Slag has the advantage of being incredibly light and I can not escape.
a hole and I take my hat flies into the air, the dog jumped on me nervous, I give him a punch in the head to keep him at bay. The engine misfires, but I continue to force it, I can not give in now, one step away from victory. Should I shift gears and climb, but may slow and I can not afford to be exceeded.
The dog gets excited, I pulled the scarf, trying to get my attention, "Not now, damn fool!" He cried. Take the penultimate corner to 240km / h, do not go out of your way to a hair, but finally succumbs to the axle, breaks a wheel and I lose, I try not badarci but the car skids, the radiator growls and smoke starts coming out from the hood but do not yield, with the sweat in your eyes I see, I see the finish line, yet few meters e. .. A gigantic shadow covers us, I look up instinctively and saw the carcass of the car prof. Pending fall from the sky and crashed with a boom on the track a few yards away, pull the brake with all the strength in my body but it is too late, there is not enough space, I turn the steering wheel and trying to sharply limit the damage and I still stick in my hand for shooting. Do not cry, do not it's worth it.
The impact with the windscreen at that speed is monstrous, luckily the last time I reinforced with Kevlar suit, the flight appears to me so long that it seems unreal, my body inertia is fired at full speed in a thousand splinters glass, air and debris that arrives in your face, the smoke from the radiator in my throat. And for a moment, suspended in midair, I hear: voices, applause and ovations. A cheering crowd leads me in triumph, lifts me up and takes me to the podium, where I was crowned "the fastest motherfucker in history ", I cheer, love me, and Penelope and there, makes its way through the crowd, it melts my hair and freezes her with those blue eyes, she says" I love Dick. I've always loved. "The kiss between the applause of the crowd. I think I won, I won.
regain consciousness on the track, in the mud. I put down despite the pain everywhere, I make a huge effort to appear better off than they are. I think I have a couple of broken ribs, but I do not even notice the pain anymore. The race is over, Red Max finishes last. We have not even placed. The speaker is reading the partial results, the Slag Brothers win at the last position with zero points, we are there. I feel the touch of irony as she reads "Mean Machine - even zero
I turn to the dog is laughing at the asshole. I stand up and I cleaned up best I can.
"Come Muttley" I say "we must prepare for the next race."



Born in Rome in 1986, when the balloon reached its apex with titles like
attended for six years, the Roman School of comic strips . Currently pretending to study for a degree in Industrial Design.

Government Royal Navy Ships For Sale

'E' Is that clear? "
" clear. "Said Kyle Lomax supporting for a few seconds gaze of his questioner. Then lowered them to the little metal box that was passed just before.
"Where did you have to get there? "
" Collins On Base on the Moon. Hangar drop three, Jonah Prosulic cabinet. "
" Well. The man walked toward the exit of the flat plain of Kyle Lomax. Reached the door he turned and said, "No matter how, but must get there within three days. "
Kyle looked at him in the face but could not make out his features because of the perception of perverting blurred every human physiognomic detail.
Kyle nodded several times, almost seemed to tremble, Then the man went out.

Oliver Johns put the glove mascot of his uncle Herbert. A shiver went up to his back. After 7 years
Johns returned to the races.
"Your uncle was made for the four wheels, was in need of land under his engine ..." said a man on the other side of the locker room. It was a little one-eyed expression of alarm and ice.
He rose from the bench on which he was sitting and he left the room, enclosed in a sealed suit. Before entering the door, the little man took leave of Oliver Johns saying, "See to put all, I do not like to win too easily ..."
"Sam, I'll win. " Oliver said, but now the little guy was already out.
Oliver picked up his tight suit and helmet from his locker and then closed it.
While he was wearing the suit, making sure that there were no tears or small holes, spread the loudspeaker in the room a female voice: "The Five drivers entered in the competition are asked to report within ten minutes hangar nine. Five pilot ... "The voice continued
three more times to send the notice and when she was completing the last, Oliver was ready to leave the dressing room riders. Waiting for him outside one of the judges of the competition that from head to feet for any irregularities.
"Everything ok, control over. I proceed to go with nine hangar, "said the judge talking to the intercom on the wall of the corridor.
few minutes later came the hangar, an old warehouse converted to seven years from the launch pad for the race. The five spacecraft entered the race were all placed side by side, just above a line from the red light. The other pilots, together with their engineers were putting up the last details before the race. The only one who noticed Oliver was the little guy, Sam Fuller said Chip. The name is not whether it was deserved for the speed with which flew but because the object was found stuck in his eye to a challenger. Not was never proven guilty but the rumors do not need any certification. Sam helped himself to food, to show that despite the not-too-developed physique, he knew how to be assertive.
"Johns, I did not think I had so much guts to participate in this race ..." shouted Sam making sure that the entry of Oliver was noticed by all the other contestants.
Oleschuk Tatiana looked up and framed the figure of Oliver Johns with its blue-green eyes. His face twitched slightly, then moved a lock of blonde in front of his face and then went back to tinkering in the commands of his shuttle. The other two drivers Hong-Seok Park, and John Pastrone not even bothered to divert shuttles from their eyes.
"It will be the guts to let me win ... you'll see! "Oliver said defiantly.
Sam laughed loudly and went without another word to his shuttle.
Oliver took a deep breath and moved toward the shuttle: the "thorn in the side." Like all vessels permitted in the race thorn in the side of the war was a war surplus earth-moon, the moon belongs to the fleet. And as all four other ships had been found abandoned in space and adapted for the race. But unlike the other had a singularity: the right side of the shuttle was a material different from the color gray.
"Mr. Johns, I completed the diagnostic cycle. Everything in order. "Notified the Exchange Oliver engineer who helped to develop the Thorn in his side. Oliver must be a new thought, I've never seen.
"All personnel should exit the hangar. Only pilots can stay. "Ordered one of the judges through the intercom.
engineers and all other people who were headed for the exit of the hangar, leaving the pilots with their own ships.
Sam Fuller slipped into his shuttle, the Black Grin, and shouted, "May you live and die as heroes, that I will die a winner! "
was an old phrase that Oliver had heard in his family, especially Uncle Herbert even when she competed on the mainland.
All the drivers took their places in their shuttle, sealed inside and putting the helmet. Oliver
activates the motors will be ready to go.
The hangar, after the release of staff, was depressurized and opened.
front of the five riders now saw only one thing, their destination, the Moon.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are pleased to present the most exciting race of all human history: the Death Race in Space Earth - the Moon. Participants will leave from the station to get to Gagarin, Shepard dark side of moon lunar base in the former Ziyuan. The drivers are five as usual, from left: Oliver Johns, in his first official race, is the grandson of Herbert Johns champion of Death Race on the ground and died in the first Death Race in Space. Help thorn in the side. Here Sam Fuller, defending champion of the previous edition, the guide Tatiana Grin Black Then we Oleschuk the first woman in the race for the Earth-Moon system, which drives the Dragon's Claw. The fourth pilot is John Pastrone, known as Moloch, the Tiger leadership of Fire. The final competitor is Hong-Seok Park, said Starfighter, rookie of the Death Race, has been highly decorated military war Earth-Moon system. The shuttle guide is called the Flower of Death, and says the Park as it is the same shuttle that served him in war. Well Ladies and Gentlemen, is now start the race! So ... here we begin the third Death Race Earth - Luna! "The line in the shuttles
in the first race that was red is now colored green.
The race had begun.
Four of the five ships sped away from the hangar toward the final goal, the fifth aimed a bit 'and exploded tearing the walls of the former depot.

Some engineers remained to observe the departure of John Pastrone saw the shuttle explode into a thousand pieces, sullying the entire hangar. Among engineers, there was one who walked away from the explosion but was quickly detected and blocked by a massive security man.
"Kyle Lomax, where you hidden form P-3? "
" I'm not-I do not know what he's talking about ... "Kyle said, pretending to know nothing but the security guard grabbed him by the neck and flattened against the wall.
"Where? "
" into the shuttle. "Kyle came out of the mouth with a gasp.
"What? "
'Johns ... Oliver Joh-" The close
man became intolerable to her throat, and a few minutes after Kyle died.

"Oliver Johns driver of the Thorn in his side is now in fourth place fourth and last ... we are told by the director ..."
Sam Fuller led the race followed by Tatiana Oleschuk and Park Hong-Seok.
"The first obstacle to overcome is the graveyard of warships, the cloud of metal. A portion of space full of wrecks that our drivers will have to overcome slowing down as little as possible! "Sam Fuller
grin on his Black Cloud came in first in the metal, avoiding the larger pieces, but being hit by a myriad of tiny fragments that damaged the reactor cooling system of the shuttle.
"Fifty minutes to overload the core and its explosion. »Read Sam Fuller on the monitor side of his shuttle.
"Maybe I survive ... "The Grin
Black dodged two other wrecks of old ships and channeled in a motor which only the skeleton remained outside. Hong-Seok Park
Oleschuk and Tatiana were side by side, a few miles from the first position, as two flies piled next to each other. The Dragon's Claw step forward, leaving the Flower of Death a few feet away. Just what I wanted to Park Hong-Seok. In his years as a fighter pilot had experienced thousands of techniques to be able to carry around his enemy, now what was being served on a silver platter. He had no weapons, of course, but still knew a few tricks to destroy the other shuttles without firing a shot, especially inside the cloud of metal. The Dragon's Claw
accelerated spouting way between two large scrap that almost the entire route split off the top cap of the shuttle. Behind the Death Blossom is getting nearer and nearer to his goal. Tatiana
Oleschuk slipped into a labyrinth of tunnels created by an old troop transport ship. It was recognized immediately by the huge amount of corpses that lives in it. As someone cut in two as he passed and went on his run.
'and' too close. "Tatiana Oleschuk swerving to shake off his pursuer, but only got to approach it a little more '.
"There you are ... the socket! "The Flower of Death struck the left side of the Dragon's Claw, which ended up meet a dense cloud of screws and bolts. The shuttle Oleschuk Tatiana, now uncontrollable, continued its course to crash into a pile of wreckage. The explosion that followed forced the Death Blossom to slow to avoid impact with some wreckage thrown in the explosion. At that time Oliver Johns
with the Thorn in His Side of the masses came out of a wreck taking the second position, just off the cloud of metal.
"Come the next. »Park Hong-Seok chuckled putting the wake of the Thorn in his side.
"Great! Oliver Johns moved to the second position! But the gap is even wider with Sam Fuller! Past the Cloud Metal now we just have to see how it behaves in the second phase: the Shooting Range! Were prepared 6 satellites armed with laser guns that will shoot three volleys at each step of the shuttles! Stay glued to the race, we will see some good! "
thorn in the side came in an area called the shooting range after a short distance from the Death Blossom Park Hong-Seok. The first of three satellites launched volleys of lasers, one after another that Oliver Johns escaped with no problems doing so they also were seen at the last moment by his pursuer. Hong-Seok Park did not move to strike as trivial, even managed to get close enough to touch the thorn within very little. He tried again to ram the shuttle shortly after Oliver, but had to turn abruptly to the right to prevent other three bursts of laser.
thorn in the side then suddenly slowed and paralleled the Flower of Death, leaving its pilot prohibited. Oliver tried to slam her against the side of the shuttle's Park Hong-Seok, who appealed to his skill as a pilot to avoid it. Side by side, the shuttles proceeded through another pair of laser satellites while avoiding the deadly emissions. Hong-Seok Park could not figure out which tactic was, and especially what the outcome would bring. Oliver
its continued commitment to keep her closest rival until the close last satellite laser. Accelerated suddenly putting in front of the Flower of Death, in order to block the view of the satellite.
"I realized that I do not care cos-... "Oliver
dodged the first two shots hit the satellite but left in the third. Hong-Seok Park saw the third shot on the refraction of the gray plug on the side is heading towards the shuttle. It was the last thing he saw.
"What a race gentlemen, this is not a joke mica! The rookie has been the last to be able to undermine the reigning champion! Will he make it? "

Sam Fuller slowed and started touring around the moon and head toward the base Ziyuan. Oliver Johns
instead accelerated to the limits of speed possible given the strength of his shuttle. He came close to the moon at a rate three times higher than where you came Sam Fuller. Not slowed down and went in the opposite direction to that taken from his latest challenger.
"Here we are now in the last moments of the third edition of Death Race in Space. Sam Fuller, said Sheggia is first and at this moment is in view of the base Ziyuan, the point of arrival. Oliver Johns has just entered the orbit of the Moon at a speed never seen before. You can reach his opponent? "
Oliver died suddenly the engine and then a split second later, steering the shuttle of about one hundred and eighty degrees.
"Incredible! Thorn in the side he used a maneuver that no one had ever dared before! To reach his opponent has not slowed down but continued approaching the moon passing next to it and tacking of nearly one hundred and eighty degrees after turning off the engine. Now he has rekindled his base in the direction of arrival! This race will be remembered for many years to come, whatever the result! "
Sam Fuller saw the maneuver Oliver through his radar now realizing that he could not reach the finish before the Thorn in his side. Accelerated. Accelerating too
meant a further warming of the engine that would certainly shortened the time until the explosion of his shuttle.
"Shit ... three minutes now. "Sam looked at the flashing on the monitor at the side of the controls.
thorn in the side was now closer to the base of the Black Grin Ziyuan.
Suddenly a laser beam was fired from somewhere on the moon and hit the shuttle Oliver Johns, killing the pilot.
"What's happening? Gentlemen, we are facing a serious sabotage that the evidence is ... we apologize for the error, but tell us it was just a natural phenomenon, not a laser shot. Unfortunately we have to stop the race report for a statement of urgency, but then we will propose an event record. Now we give the line a important statement of the President and Prime Minister of the Moon of Earth. "
Sam Fuller saw the death of Oliver when he saw that it was not doing the canonical route adjustments. He realized that if he hit the base at that speed would be death for him. Exploding against the base of the hangar was torn mooring and irreparably damaged the base. Without the shuttle, and a place to find oxygen there was no chance of survival. He thought quickly about how to solve the problem and the only solution was to ram the shuttle to change its direction. This involved a problem: the inability to launch in time the Black Grin But if he had found a way to blow the shuttle as soon as he had approached the Thorn in his side ...
"Found ... let's see if it works. "
the shuttle banked to take a direction that would lead to an impact with the Thorn in his side. The monitor flashed two minutes.
"Grin Black, opens your teeth and laugh one last time ..." let the engine up and then blew the cover glass above his head. Finally eject on.
Small motors driving the chair which was now attached, partial braking of the momentum that launched him outside the orbit of the moon. The Black Grin
walked quickly against the thorn in the side but the other exploded too soon because they shuttle were involved. Fortunately, the shock wave diverted much of that thorn in the side that crashed at a point where the only damage that was caused to add another crater to the Moon. Sam Fuller
azionò than the engines of the seat to avoid getting lost in deep space, but went out after a few minutes of use.
"Light ... could not work for so long ..." Sam pointed to himself while slowly drifting away from the moon. While he watched the base
Ziyuan become smaller, they noticed a small object that was hurtling in his direction. He stopped his run by holding your left hand. Fortunately, not ripped the suit. It was a small metal cube with a flashing red light on one of its faces. Sam wondered what was the sound of that flash and realized he could die in total silence. Already started whistling painfully ears. When he was thinking about some trick to make it back to the moon, he saw two warships to approach it from two different sides.
"Sam Fuller, I declare under arrest by order of the President and Prime Minister of the Moon of Earth. Consegnaci the form P-3. "One of the two ships were inserted into his helmet radio.
"Sam Fuller, the Earth government gives you free haven ..." The other vessel within communication. One of the two ships
war did what they had built up starting to shoot. The other was no exception.
Sam Fuller in the middle of two fires found the solution to his problems. He pulled out a hidden compartment of a seat, a laser gun. Separated from his chair trying to get away from it as possible but not too much. He took aim and fired the propulsion system of the chair that broke out moments later. The shock wave pushed him toward the moon. Sam never knew if it was enough to be brought back to the surface as one of the two warships exploded knocking him much faster towards the Moon. He looked at the clock that was flashing in your fury. Probably some infinitesimal piece of the ship had punctured the suit.
"Two minutes of oxygen ..."
Sam continued to fall towards the base of arrival.
"A Moment ..."
He threw the metal box to a small crater near the base.
"Thirty-five seconds ..."
landed not far from the base and immediately began to make long jumps to reach it. Some engineers were monitoring the impact zone of the Thorn in his side and noticed his presence. Sam did not see them either, and walked rapidly towards the entrance of the hangar.
"I am Sam Fuller, I ask permission to enter a race ... I win! "He went
hangar that had been left open, past the landing point of the shuttle and put in the compartment closure stangna. Azionò closure and slumped to the ground.
"atmosphere in recovery ... wait ..."
Sam had finished the air for at least a minute.
"Process completed"
Sam Fuller quickly took off his helmet and began to breathe avidly.
"Sam, you're three-time champion of the Death Race in Space. 'He said smugly.



Luca Musso, graduate student at the Bologna Film Dams and passionate
comics and genre literature. Occasionally, he works as editor and
Shooting for a small company in Bologna.

Take Apart Car Cd Player

It was 19:20.
The wind caressed her hair, slapped her. She kept closer as he could, I scratched. I looked ahead, trying to keep her in his arms despite the friction. Few minutes had passed, and we were already in Paris. A typical Parisian restaurant. The light of a candle. We ordered a good pinot noir, while we waited for the first.
"David ... how come?"
I knew that this was the first question.
"I have no idea."
"What do you mean? That is, you just got up one day and you realize can run faster than light? "
He had noticed that I was tapping with his finger on the table. I did not want live show, despite anything to say themselves.
"No, not so. Let's say it was a gradual thing. It started a week ago. I got up - and here we are - then I began to prepare myself ... and I realized they left the house five minutes earlier than usual. You know, my apartment, right? "
" Yeah, sure. "
I was surprised he was able to remain calm. This was not something comparable to his eyes a-a-blue-blue.
"Here, not there is long way to go in that hole. In short, The fact is that I left at 8:45 instead of 9:00 am as usual, although it has the usual actions. I noticed when I arrived at the office, and was deserted. So I decided to have a coffee. "
" And ...? the coffee was radioactive? "
" Do not you understand? Had already begun. So, I had queued to pay, the cashier. There were only 4 people ahead of me. It seemed an eternity that was passing between a client and another. "
" Ah. The same reason you're so nervous here at the restaurant? We ordered 5 minutes ago. "
I realized that I had begun to tap his finger on the table. A super-speed (or as we call it) had caused a groove on the wooden table, also visible from the tablecloth. I moved the cutlery to cover it and I continued my story.
"Exactly. It was not me to be fast. It was the others, all others, to be painfully slow. Only now, I realize what I felt crazy! "
" What do you mean? "
took the classic expression when he was preparing to chide. It was as if I was taking the crap that was going to say, and would be disappointed if it was not up to the expectations of his rebuke.
"I started screaming things like 'there are people who must go to work!' 'Mica do not want the night'. "
The rebuke had been strangled in her mouth. I had exceeded expectations.
"A part of me to say 'poor bastard', nothing happened. Nothing serious. "
In order to settle down in his chair, he dropped the heavy coat she had brought from Italy. It's cold, in the arms of David Express. Before it touches the ground, got up, picked it up on the fly and moved sull'attaccapanni. I returned to my seat, and she had not noticed anything.
"Well, it continued to grow as they spent their days. In the office I've even received compliments from Strazzini for 'unexplained increase in production '. "
Now I started playing the bread crumbs. Anna looked at me more serious and stiff.
"I went to pitch on Friday morning at 5. There was none. I was going to confirm my suspicion ... "
" That was not the world to have become slower, but it was you to be become like that cartoon character, Flash Gordon? "
" Flash. "
" Huh? "
"Flash and that's it. What runs with the red suit is Flash. The blond in the film with Ornella Muti is Flash Gordon. "
"Ah. There. By the way, apart from saving on travel, what are you going to do with these ... ahem. With these powers? "
The sarcasm of my girlfriend was legendary. I knew, after years of engagement, it was just a way of reacting to what they did not understand, or that she was sorry that made her angry, pretending to be stronger. Who knows which of the three options, in this case.
"You know 'faster than a speeding bullet'?"
He looked at his hand I got up, and I was careful to bandage wrapped around the palm. Also this time I would have exceeded his expectations.
"David ... what the fuck have you done?"
"The timing of my father. It is no use being faster than a bullet if you do not have the skin indestructible. "
"But ... you're an idiot! You almost shot me! Why not try to throw from the fifth floor, at this point? "
" A superpower at a time. "
I wonder what the French have thought that surrounded us. Who knows that in a ridiculous pantomime crude language like Italian have witnessed. Anna put her hands over her face, was holding the screaming. I was right to take her to a restaurant that way. I had hit a whole baguette that had crumbled into the basket. They were 19:45. We had already ordered seven minutes.

***

must have been the wine. Has been the atmosphere of Paris. It must have been the charm of superpowers. The fact is that when we entered the hotel at 23:40, I jumped. I swear on my collection of DVDs that I had no such intentions. I had booked the hotel because I was sure there would be too cold at night, to return to Italy ... on foot. The fact that he had a great desire, of course, was to my advantage. The preliminaries will last forever too much for a man, let alone for someone with my "patience". In any case I tried to control myself. My hand was a bad dog, but I tried not to notice. When we finally got to the point, I lost control. She had always been the woman of my dreams, and those eyes, so rare, so beautiful, made it even more valuable. I did not realize the time that had elapsed. But she did not fail to do with noticing.
"Did you come yet?"
"Oh."
"I mean ... you have already come? What kind of superpower do you have? "
He got out of bed, dressed himself. Quickly, it seemed that I had sent part of my superspeed.
"I'm going to make me walk."
"Anna ... it's cold outside!"
"Where's my coat?"
It was 23:45.



Marco Rizzo is not a member of the Italian Communists. He is a member of another caste, the Journalists, and writes comic books and comic books. His last two comic productions are "Ilaria Alpi - The Price of Truth" and "Debbie Dillinger: a ballad of love and death." E 'co-artistic director of the innovative anthology magazine published by Mono Tunuè and founded the site Comicus , which still does not sleep at night.

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"You must come first."
Fathers should say things like "do your best" or "put him across," he thinks Antonio. His father
not. Her father is an old school. Only the first one that exists, you're worth only if you breathe the scent of victory. Nothing else matters, nothing.
"comes first, I recommend Antonio" the repeats.
"Okay" is the only answer. "Okay Dad. First, I promise. "
The competitors are many, but it means nothing. Many does not mean fast. It just means more opponent to beat.
to see him, did not you give two cents. Small, skinny legs and crooked, Antonio shows much less of his eleven years.
Seeing him in the side to the other children like a puppy among the great. But Antonio
know the path to memory, if it is studied every inch, he spent all summer to train just to get first. And he knows that what matters is not the tonnage or legs, but the lungs and the beat.
The cross-country race starts, the team starts off in a cloud of dust that even a herd of buffalo.
The race lasts three turns.
seemingly endless and very rapid participants to parents who attend.

arrival, his father Anthony is the only one who has not watched the race because he read the newspaper in the car. And he came to the son all dirt and sweat that comes close to the car crying. Only then fold the paper, lays it on the passenger seat and down. Watch the child in tears, runs a hand through her wet hair and says something to his father.
"You have done your best?"
"Yes Dad you ... I swear! But ... I managed to get only one third ... it was not fast enough! Sorry! "The tears they are mixed with words like trees in an avalanche. The father indicates
ahead of him.
"Do not cry. See Corrado. What arrived, Jack? "
" First, Daddy. Corrado is strong, has always been strong! "
" And last year? "
" ... the first ever father, Conrad is the fastest of all! I'll never beat him, "she sobs.
The father pauses that seem to last forever, then seriously look into his eyes.
"You what did you get last year?"
"Thirteenth."
"So you have been faster than him. Just cry. "
The father takes his hand and back into the car and suddenly realizes that Antonio is the speed of a relative thing like everything in life.
"Now we get him an ice cream, Dad?" Is the child looking out the window.
"No" replied the man, "you get only one third, we will see next year."

Antonio does not understand right away but then he thinks he does not care.
He just found out that speed is relative but not the victory, and the difference, sometimes, is only an ice cream.



Architect, working in the industry for some years but the passion to draw the clouds soon takes over. He began illustrating
# 23 of "Detective Dante" for Eura Editoriale, on texts by Robert Recchioni.
E 'is currently at work on No. 1 of a new monthly series ever to Eura.
addition to drawing, and loves to write stories that people sometimes see the light on his blog

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1.
The vibration and rhythmic rocking with the Fairlane family of love, as the voice of his mother.
Around the sounds were a mixture of laughter, insults and burps beer bottles smashed on the rocks. He turned
face to his left, toward the car of Mike Brown, did not see him, too dark.
SGAS compulsively, ready for his race.
Robin "Rob" Lewis loved to run, el'avrebbe done forever, if possible. The blouse
Sue Martin joined so delightful to her breasts when she raised her arms to the moon in the center of the dusty road that led to the jump from the Nash Creek.
Five seconds later they were down, interrupting the performance of its forms and start doing what most expected between Rob and Mike.
A cloud of dust obscured the full moon and earth, enveloping the two machines now run in the race and twenty boys who jumped from the edge of the road the center as devils, screaming the names of the two challengers. The only sound
Rob felt that now was the engine that ran at full pace and scale of the marches. The only things that mattered at that moment were the mechanical part of its Fairlane and win the match against the son of a bitch Mike Bruno.
can get live up to Salto.
The first curve was more than an outcrop of reddish rock that lined the ridge overlooking the street stark naked, like a huge pimple on the backside of the hill. Nothing to worry about for the two, Rob held firmly by steering the car skid on dry ground and giving new gas once it leaves the hairpin. Mike Bruno fared very well, remaining attached to the side of Rob as a tick on a dog.
He looked toward his opponent, but saw nothing, it seemed that the night was Mike's entry into the machine. The blacks were like obsidian glass and for a split second to Rob seemed to see it become translucent.
A hole in the middle of the socket had to return to reality, just in time for the sharp bend which then leads into the hillside, in a sort of corridor made of pine and oak trees. The Fairlane was almost touched the car of Mike, and a few millimeters between the two sides were sparks. Much of Rob had bet $ 500 that the race would be flown in repairs and someone would have to remove it from the throat of Mike. It was not
certainly not the first race that Rob did, but it was the first time I ran the road to El Salto. The figure was worth the risk, he said, although more than one we had left the skin in two decades. As Rob loved to push up its Fairlane and break my ass to all those who challenged the idea of \u200b\u200bflying into a pit of 80 meters is definitely not put him at ease.
Besides the rules were simple: he who hesitates to last wins.
And they were $ 500. Enough to pass a good winter and a great start to '58. The corridor lined
had made the night black liquid like oil, Rob had gained about three meters at the exit of the curve, the headlights pointed to nothing dusty made of dark shapes that light was hard to find (and a voice inside said to Rob that it was better not discovered). He gave
gas by taking advantage of straight road, trying to steal every inch than its opponent. He cast a nervous glance to the rear-view mirrors, the lights of the car of Mike shone like those of wolves at night, and like wolves approached dangerously. He swore on his mother something through clenched teeth.
The moon reappeared like a ghost in despair on the horizon, it seemed that despite its size would serve little light in the darkness. The road widened and became less bumpy than before, the headlights for a few seconds a billboard advertising on the right: a smiling woman with a strange cutting hair, sat in front of a sort of TV, and a huge finger pointing something squared. Too fast. Rob's attention was immediately taken by the fact that Mike had gained ground, and it was a matter of seconds before it happened to overtake. The
car from obsidian glass seemed to have an atomic bomb in the engine and a reverb it across the entire surface, quickly followed by that weird translucent effect, for a second as if someone had removed from reality.
Rob had one with his foot on the accelerator, it was a tablet, and wanted to stay until they had recovered the disadvantage. Anyone who had seen them go at that time would have seen two spots ahead of rushing through blurry eyes, such as hallucinations reeking of diesel and dried mud. The last curve
turned left, wide enough to let go of the cars in opposite lock. Mike Brown made the mistake of expanding too much and Rob won the inside, taking on a par with his opponent and ready to launch its Fairlane last kilometer that separated them from the jump.
He felt his stomach contract, as when we had to launch the plane, some fifteen years earlier, to fall in some shitty French countryside.
Five hundred dollars, he thought. Mine.
And Fairlane dust rose behind her like a herd of crazed horses.
For a moment he felt the only man in the universe, the whole universe was contained in its interior. Planets, stars, galaxies and other celestial bodies which are not even aware of their existence began to revolve around him. If that feeling lasted a second longer he would have braked suddenly and began to cry like a baby.
Five hundred dollars, he thought. Five hundred meters.
gave the bastard Mike Bruno, and the only one that is detached from her side was a good reason. He let go of that Italian
first cock, he told himself. Yes, he braked, that coward. He had the guts to go all the way, he and his damned hair slicked.
But not restrained. Two hundred yards and the two cars traveling side by side attached, like Siamese twins made of sheet metal.
Again the reflection, a caress of the moon on the body. But it was not the moon. Again, the metal became translucent. Rob opened his nostrils, breathing nervously and clutching his jaw. His hands were sweating in contact with the steering wheel. He heard a star to be born and die in his own universe that he carried in the cockpit.
Then he heard the scrape dry and sharp to his left past behind him.
Rob swung around, saw the car stopped his opponent in a soft cloud powder.
Mike Bruno had slowed. He laughed and cried. He turned again to check that it was true and that he did not get the race, but Mike's car shine. Shone and became translucent, until it became part of the night. Rob
pressed the brake, in the grip of terror does not know the source. The Fairlane
did not obey and continued his run, raising dust and reducing to a few tens of meters distance with the jump.
a 'sign of dark wood, attached with chains to a stake in L appeared in the headlights, the inscription was painted in white, hand: "Robin's Drop." Something broke in the brain of Rob.
The car flew over, taking with it earth, stones, dust, dried plants.
In its interior the universe shrank to become a very dense dot.
A reflection and self wrapped the body of Rob became translucent, until it was part of the night.

2.
The vibration and rhythmic rocking with the Fairlane family of love, as the voice of his mother.
Around the sounds were a mixture of laughter, insults and burps beer bottles smashed on the rocks.
He turned his face to his left, toward the car of Mike Brown, did not see him, too dark.
SGAS compulsively, ready for his race.
Robin "Rob" Lewis loved to run, el'avrebbe ever done, if possible.



Mauro Mura, who was born in Alghero 35 years ago, worked as a graphic advertising and publishing for several years. Designer, has had some collaboration as a colorist for several webzines and publications.

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Jill and Joe will throw on the bed.
Jill pushes Joe and orders him to shut the door.
Joe obeyed, but before hanging the "do not disturb" to handle.
Jill smiles.
Joe plunges over her.
Jill and Joe kissing, tongue against tongue.
The sleeve of his jacket is caught Joe all'orecchino Jill. Jill
Joe asks his name.
Joe, he says. And you?
Jill, Jill says.
Jill and Joe kissing.
Joe fills his hand with Jill's breast.
Jill shakes velvet jacket with Joe, almost breaking her nails.
Jill and Joe get naked.
Jill throws his clothes into the air. The red bra
Jill stops over the lamp by the bed.
The black T-shirt Joe is the only thing that Joe is wearing.
Jill pulls off his shirt to her lover.
Joe kneels on the bed to pull her pants white Jill. Jill
writhing and shrieking sounds fun.
Jill and Joe are no longer willing to wait.
Joe driving his penis into the center of the body of Jill.
Jill is preparing to welcome Joe.
Each time you change a lover's vagina Jill model on different forms.
Jill Joe gets inside. Jill and Joe
sigh.
Jill Joe hits with a flash. Jill
shaking the bed with his hands. Joe Jill
penetrates the second time.
Jill blocks surrounding it with his legs.
Joe groans and is in Jill.
Jill pushes Joe with a kick.
's a joke? Asks Jill.
Joe lowers his eyes.
Jill laughs hysterically.
Joe collects his boxer shorts, wear them.
Joe would cry and run away. Or better first and then run away crying.
Jill plays.
Jill is nervous.
Jill despises Joe aloud.
Jill says that Joe is not worthy to be called man.
Jill says that Joe is impotent.
Jill says that Joe does not know how to enjoy a woman.
Jill tells Joe to leave.
Joe remains silent.
Joe wonders what may be his success.
Joe has never failed in this way.
Joe wants to hang by the balls, upside down.
Jill is lying on the bed.
Jill refuses to watch Joe.
Jill returns with the mind in a few hours ago, when he met Joe at the bar for the first time and he had said "Hey, baby, keep 'na lot of fuck."
Jill laughed.
Joe Jill had believed.
Jill had wanted Joe.
Joe had done so Jill so wished.
Jill had dragged Joe into a hotel.
Jill loves to fuck in hotels without aseptic framed photos scattered around the room, no coffee cups with his name printed on them, no ancient stories still remain in the air.
Joe Jill has ruined the evening.
Jill Joe's self-esteem destroyed.
The blue lights of the city entering the room.
Jill pretends to be asleep.
Joe leaves the room.




1.50cm height
35 the number of shoe
three books published
2 cats
a companion
100 shots famous
20 cigarettes daily