"Now I put everything aside and remember those beautiful teenage madnesses that made me a rebel without a cause. I slip suddenly conquered by this flirtation without thinking about the consequences. It's as if I inhaled the opium of oblivion and I forget. I forget that every innocent gesture attracts others. That every look is another story begun, the end of which is already being prepared. That the climb up the slope of emotions is worth at least as much as the descent. Carousel of amorous impotences. I soak my cold lips in the strong cognac and my tongue catches fire. A revolution of the vocal cords. Of the taste buds. A mixer of viscera waking up from numbness and complex neurons. A trap we fall into every time, seduced by the promise of summer nights that are already memories.
I should have not let myself be convinced, we should have started from that dark and smoky bar back to the house, wrapped ourselves in thick beds and forgotten about everything. No, we shouldn't have gone back to the terrace where we were waiting, but Ada wanted that too much, and I was too tired to resist. It wasn't after me, no, it wasn't. That night was meant to happen."