Zero
Night,
the wind caresses the sea, the city and the skin.
Hot
day by the end of June and now the asphalt still returns the heat of
the sun.
The
road, under the wheels of the bike, runs as fast as if it choses to
be alone, guided by instinct and rage.
"A
little trip is what it takes," thought Paul.
He
likes, after dinner, goes around the city, especially if deserted on
a Tuesday in late June.
There
is no effort on the pedals and so the roads one after another, in a
maze of intersections.
To
find yourself on the deck of the devil, almost without realizing it.
In
the balance between story and superstition. And choosing the wrong
way is easier than one might think.
