Imobiliare bucuresti

Just centered

Not drugged. This is really nice, Eddy. What is it? Bloody great. I added a little white powder to mellow it out, that’s all. Remember what I said before? Anything you want you can get for a price. I meant to ask about the white powder, but another imobiliare bucuresti question popped into my mind. What’s the price? He rubbed his thumb and index finger together. Usually money. You can get pretty much anything for money in a place like this.

Not anything. Not happiness. Oh? Then what do you call freedom and power? I guess it depends on how you define happiness. Love. Money can’t buy love. As soon as I heard myself speak I wanted to laugh and had to resist an urge to start singing the words. Eddy didn’t appear to notice, instead, remaining absorbed in the conversation. Maybe. Maybe not.

But I don’t think money would get in the way of love. If that’s what you want. In my experience people think they want love, but what they really want is power. Control. What’s your choice, Johanna? Power? Or control? Control. Self-control. But before I could speak another question flashed into my mind, and I followed the thought, So what’s the other currency? What do you mean? You said the price of anything you want is usually money. Oh. He imobiliare bucuresti shrugged, his smile sardonic.

You know. People trade things sometimes. All sorts of things. Depends what you have that someone else might want. He leaned back and stretched his legs. I did the same, automatically parroting his imobiliare bucuresti actions. After a few minutes Eddy pulled himself out of the chair, unfolding in slow motion. He seemed unusually tall as he reached for my hand, bringing me to my feet, leading me into his bungalow. His backpack lay open on the floor, clothes strewn here and there.

But the bed was larger than mine and when he pulled me down beside him, the thought of embracing seemed like the most natural thing to do in that moment. We were both clothed, yet made no move to undress. I gave only a fleeting thought to Richard, but he seemed so far away. This had nothing to do with Richard. Nothing, whatsoever, to do with my relationship back home. I was living in the moment. The only moment that counted. Eddy moved his hand over my back, down my leg, caressing tenderly. Every move leisurely, with no imobiliare bucuresti sense of urgency.

I rested my head in the crook of his arm, closing my eyes, luxuriating in the exquisite feel of his touch. I must’ve dozed because when I opened my eyes the afternoon light had dwindled. Eddy snored gently beside me. The exquisite moment had evaporated; the mellow feeling waned, replaced by a sense of free-floating anxiety. Stroking his arm, I willed him to wake up, yet didn’t want to startle him. He didn’t budge. After a few minutes I made imobiliare bucuresti up my mind to leave. Standing, I buttoned my blouse, deciding to leave a note so Eddy wouldn’t worry. Taking pen and notebook out of my bag I bent over the table, poised to write a few words, when I noticed the pipe.

Out of curiosity I picked it up, glancing at Eddy. Still asleep. I put the tip into my mouth then, keeping my eyes on Eddy, held the lighter over the end of the pipe and inhaled. The smoke entered my lungs. I held it in to get the full effect before exhaling and trying once more. This time I didn’t get any smoke. Carefully I set down the pipe then wrote the note and picked up my bag. For a moment I looked down at Eddy, on an imobiliare bucuresti impulse, stroking my fingers along his leg. He didn’t respond.
Big image