Strong out and thin.

Strutting around the living room, the rain tapping on the steel balcony. A friend, my dearest of friends was sitting in the white sofa. His arms, where spred out across the backboard. His head swinging back and forth trying to follow this twisted caracter waltzing around.

-I always for some reason liked to walk barefoot when i can hear the rain against the windows, I said. It's like a challenge to natur, it's raining but I still got dry feet. And the ruff wooden floor feels old against my feet and toes.

The scene was a complete comedy. Walking around with a bohemian hat and peacock feather sticking out. A Blue woolen button-down shirt and a vest that looked like it had been made from kitchen cloths. Rolled up loosly fitting jeans and bare feet. Wearing sunglasses and smoking cigarett's from a long black extender. Clearly wound up on drugs. Nervous twitchings and frantic phasing.

-You know? I always loved Maggie Gyllenhaal. What a beautiful girl! She has the face of an thirties moviestar but still send out so much sex! I mean like she has the kindness of a grandma and the body of a godess.

-What does Maggie Gyllenhal have to do with this? He said. Patiently watching his friend frantic phasing. Wondering what to do next.

-Nothing really. That's the beauty with it, nothing means anything anymore nomore. When did you loose your feeling? That child feeling of that everything is gonna be alright?

-I can't remember, long time ago I guess.

-You see I just lost mine yesterday! I think, ah yes I do think that, ehm, ya.

The LP-player suddenly clicked and the music stopped. The rain seemed to have turned to drissle and damp was forming on the window.