Herpes Is It Really Bad?

ego A little story pulp

After returning home in the scene that presents itself before my eyes is terrible blood stains everywhere, on windows, walls, dishes scattered on the floor of the living room, open windows.
I look in the mirror and I realize I still have the blood splatter on the cheek.
The Sere, in terms of blood on his clothes, put is worse than me. He began to wash and wash, it will be a long job. Dario
Campari, at the same time, is in his bed, but can not get to sleep, can not forget.

Meanwhile, in my head begin to appear flash of the evening. Before the laughter, dinner together, then I remember just a distraction, a knife, screaming, so much blood, even on the ceiling, running the hospital, their faces often hopeless junctions in the ER.

But now it's over, you just put everything in order, it will remain no trace.
And when we finish, forget, just forget.

Author's note: The story really happened to me. Clearly nobody died .... maybe ...