Something Fucking Wrong
A girl, a not so little girl but still a child with curly black hair with curly black eyes; wide open wolfish eyes as a Spanish would say; but right now that isn't exactly right she has two more years before when she gonna be a wolf; a lupa as classic Latin calls the whores; she has not too much choices at our neighbourhood.
Right now her mother or her father sent her to the small grocery shop, here at the corner of the Huge Carrier and Small Carrier Street (You should know a carry in Hungarian means a sexual intercourse provided for money and - lo and behold! - the Huge Carrier Street was the center of the cheap sexual services...); the shop's commerce is mostly given by selling cheap and highly toxic alcoholic beverages but she is not even interested in buzz now. The attendant knows her, she asks her not just yelps as it's usual here, in this country, in this city, she has wolfish eyes too:
"How much bologna would you like?"
The girl shows the money, mostly five forint coins, a nice bronze column, altogether one nickel, a fucking lousy nickel:
"For seventy forints..."
"May I give some chicken bologna?" asks the attendant.
"Which is cheaper!" says the child.
Something fucking wrong here...
A girl, a not so little girl but still a child with curly black hair with curly black eyes; wide open wolfish eyes as a Spanish would say; but right now that isn't exactly right she has two more years before when she gonna be a wolf; a lupa as classic Latin calls the whores; she has not too much choices at our neighbourhood.
Right now her mother or her father sent her to the small grocery shop, here at the corner of the Huge Carrier and Small Carrier Street (You should know a carry in Hungarian means a sexual intercourse provided for money and - lo and behold! - the Huge Carrier Street was the center of the cheap sexual services...); the shop's commerce is mostly given by selling cheap and highly toxic alcoholic beverages but she is not even interested in buzz now. The attendant knows her, she asks her not just yelps as it's usual here, in this country, in this city, she has wolfish eyes too:
"How much bologna would you like?"
The girl shows the money, mostly five forint coins, a nice bronze column, altogether one nickel, a fucking lousy nickel:
"For seventy forints..."
"May I give some chicken bologna?" asks the attendant.
"Which is cheaper!" says the child.
Something fucking wrong here...
