Turtle Soup Part 1

1. A woman's perspective.

"Don't step on my ass when you go to the toilet!"

"Why are you gaping so wide?

" "I just had a dream and your body reacted like a dog to the postman, and it attacked me!"

"I didn't see your butt, what should I do?

" "You've already ruined my best moment, what are you waiting for? Go poop!"

I did so, unable to instinctively sympathize with her because I didn't know what was wrong with these dreams. They hadn't been bothering me at all lately. And I'd love to feel their disgusting tentacles on me.

The moment I spent in the toilet at that moment could have been a pleasant experience if it weren't for my poop, which had decided to rebel against me, its owner! It was definitely the work of that shitty turtle.

" "You howled, you stupid, reptilian, dirty turtle, how long do I have to wait, you have no sense of humor? You damned turtle, damn you." I'm warning you! I'm counting to five, and you have to be on the surface—or else...

Later that same day, I was already beating out a rhythm with my fingers, forgetting the painful moments—the poop only came out after 40 solid minutes!

Too soon, however, I was overcome with euphoria. Firstly, my evil half had already entered, and secondly, she was reminding me of my worth, which was not much, at least in my personal opinion. And hers too.

"What was it like with the toilet, Mr., were you moaning for long?" I heard everything anyway, just don't deny it, or I'll shout to the others. Oh look, some nice gentlemen are coming out into the yard with cigarettes in their mouths! "

It's okay. I can say I had a problem, but it's over now. You ungrateful girl! Just don't tell anyone, or I'd be covered in pink, head to toe, as if I had two of them!"

"Of course, you'd look like a puppet you could paint blushes on!

She's always reliable; I love her so much that a puddle is enough for me to dip her silly little head in."

"Where's our nun?"

"Who are we talking about? You know what she's capable of!" "

I wanted to add a little color to our conversation. Maybe she'll be the kind of girl you need to spend a little time getting to know.

" "I don't think so, anyway, Aga, here's your phone. You could always make that unnecessary gesture with your hand and run over to her."

"Come on, I'd like to mess up my newly styled hair, see how beautifully it contrasts with you?

A little mischief won't hurt that pole. My spirit told me so; no one else had such a good spirit. Mine was nurtured from the very beginning. I let me have a little fun every now and then. My parents invented it with the nun a long time ago."

The movement of the hands revealed a truth that no one was prepared for, including well-known colleagues, friends, doggies and all those who do not like to dabble in anything.

I had to take steps to the place that, coming to life in my nightmares, said,

"If you ever come inside again—I'll kick your ass!"

That's the shit I couldn't mention to anyone. Besides, I was free from everything evil in this world. Well, again, excluding those chronic diarrheas—someone calls them diarrhea, but there's nothing there.

There's nothing there, I have to hold that thought in my head like underwear holds a turnip. Another pin slips smoothly into the surface. A frozen area for which anything green is cursed. Wasting no time, I visit, sniffing those standing closer, everyone like fresh fish—this time. "

It'll be a beautiful journey"—such a vain hope. But it's not enough to just say it out loud, because…

around the corner, in my mind, I already want to catch some bastard who had the audacity to stick gum to the seatback, which I obviously had to stumble upon. It's so unlike me, but this time I repeated the gum stunt. I stuck it to the seat back behind my seat; it was free, so I got away with it.

Lice-infested gum always stuck to anything that reminded me of me, so now someone could suffer for once in my place. I went on a hunt. "

Heather Station."

Yes, I heard that almost every day; it's good that humanity has "fallen" into weekends, which are a cure for people like me.

A moment later, and my brain reacts to something called "a master under whose inevitability you go crazy." My imagination starts running wild.

"I'm part of his sagging belly, his acne on his face, that's why he yells at me like that."

I had to convince myself of this over and over again, because in his place of dominion, I was the one playing the role of slave. The only thing missing were the handcuffs, but he'd have them in a flash, so I couldn't blame him if I got screwed again; he was just waiting for that. "

Overdue again! Don't make me report you to the boss!"

Reporting suited this gentleman, a lousy informer who'd forgotten the smell of alcohol, so he was always fully aware of his words. He hated me when sober!

Something was wrong with him; this was one of the few cases where he couldn't recognize me, excluding my folks, the priest after Christmas, and the many teachers I dared not bow to on command.

The next moments reminded me of my unfortunate fate. Like the tossing of subjects who supposedly built these hideous triangles in this beautiful Egypt with their good will.

Bring it, bring it, sweep it up. Bring it, bring it, sweep it up. Sweep it, bring it, bring it up. Sweep it, bring it, bring it up.

It was all monotonous as hell, but there was less joy behind that. Watching those snobs, they managed to steal kilos of it from us.

By my wounded heart, I wanted this! I should wear it on my firm body, "You old blob, give it back, switch roles, screenwriter, please!"

The clock face announces 3:00 PM.

I get my ass out, these clocks aren't so bad. If only you didn't have to stare at them every few seconds, they'd spin a hell of a lot faster. The hands, of course.

Again on the surface of ice and snow. There, I could breathe for a moment.

All I could hear were those feeble voices, "It's me again, it's only me." A shitty turtle, I'm furious with him for tonight. It's all his fault. And now he's trying to pin me down at the bus stop!

The streets are ruled by rules, and this one here said everyone was practically a big family, one groping the other, as one does in a crowd, my friend. Another crush, and another check on the freshness of the fish I'm doomed to travel with for a certain stretch of my life. Fortunately, this section is quite short and resembles episodes that are difficult to remember individually.

The journey was made more enjoyable by stops, which allowed me to see things I had no idea existed.

Two stops before leaving, at a rest stop, I spotted a pet shop, and from it, a kid was carrying a bundle. He was going to be miserable getting in! With that thing in his hands.

It was a disgusting situation for anyone to encounter. Truly unpleasant, because in that bundle, I could see that damn turtle, which I still couldn't hide my resentment towards.

And he was approaching with it. The bastard had the audacity to stand close to me and grin mockingly at me.

And there was something on his hands. Not so much disgusting, but rather not preferred by my anus; the animal, thanks to my butt, had been completely degenerated after those bathroom incidents.

Only one thing flashed before my eyes: despair. The puppy was in such good humor, however, that he showed this creature to others as well. I seized the moment and, in a desperate gesture, fled from this train of bad memories. It was like a bus, but with a driver at his post, not always sober.

Home is an oasis where everyone can make casual movements among their own and avoid getting into a joke. I found such a place between my two little dogs.

We don't care much about the commands or orders of others, which exist beyond our reach. We are happy together; the only thing missing is a pipe of peace, but even that was smoked. It only had a more refined shape, as it looked like a cigarette tube. But during this ceremony and under the influence of that pipe, I could say "pipe" to everything, even to my beloved shoe.