page 1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8 He was like that now. As the wind grew stronger, Damir’s breath grew faster. He was standing at the helm, catching the wind, and I know his heart was singing like masts in a storm.       "My gaze is as poisonous as Orion’s tail," he laughed, shaking his head.       "And you know why? Because I feed on berries picked from the emerald carpets of juniper woods—isn’t that right, dude? So where are we going?"       "Why don’t we go to that island of yours?" suggested Maia.       "Not likely," said Damir.       "Why not?"       "Why not?" Damir looked towards the island we were now leaving behind. "Because it is written that he who reaches the Island of the Beautiful People with the mistral in his...oh, forget it..."       He fell silent and we listened to the wind in the sails and the gurgling of the sea around the stern.       "No, really, why not go to the island?" Maia insisted.       "Why not go to the island," said Damir. "I’d rather you asked me if an atom the size of the universe exists. Or better yet, is God into geometry?"       "Oh come on," said Maia with a suppliant look.       Damir played up a moment of dramatic silence, then turned to me:       "What d’you think, man, should I tell her?"       "I don’t care," I said.       "All right," said Damir. "The following morning we crept out of the boat like two zombies, my ears still full of that miserable "Smoke on the Water." We crawled around a little, stretching ourselves, then went off to find some place to have a coffee and get our heads straight, and we stumbled across this chapel and the jetty. A steep flight of stone stairs led up to it, and the rocks were all covered with a sort of meaty climbing plant with blood-red flowers, like a carpet. 'Shit,' he tells me, 'what the hell did we take last night?' It really was a bad trip scene. So we go down to the jetty, wondering what the iron rings and the frayed log are for, and he tells me: 'Either we’re Damir je sve brže disao. Stajao je za kolom, hvatao vjetar, a srce mu je, znam, pjevalo kao pripone na buri. "Pogled mi je otrovan kao Orionov rep", smijao se odmahujući glavom. "A znašto?", pitao je Maju, more, vjetar. "Zato što se hranim muharama ubranim na smaragdnom sagu smrekove šume, je li tako buraz? Nego, kamo ćemo?"       "A da odemo na taj vaš otok", predložila je Maja.       "Jako teško", rekao je Damir.       "Zasto?"       "Zasto?", Damir je pogledao prema otoku koji nam je ostajao po krmi.       "Zato što je zapisano da će oni koji po maestralu dođu na Otok lijepih ljudi... ma zaboravi...".       Usutio je i neko vrijeme slušali smo vjetar u jedrima i klokotanje mora po krmi.       "Stvarno, zašto ne bismo otišli na taj otok?", nije odustajala Maja.       "Zasto ne bismo otišli na taj otok?", rekao je Damir. "Rađe me pitaj postoji li atom velićine svemira? Ili još bolje: bavi li se bog geometrijom?"       "Ma daj", rekla je Maja i uputila Damiru jedan molećiv pogled.       On je neko vrijeme štancao dramatičnu šutnju, a onda me je pogledao       "Sto misliš, buraz, da joj kažem?"       "Svejedno mi je", rekao sam.       "Ovako", rekao je Damir. "Drugo jutro izvukli smo se iz broda ko dva zombija, a meni se iz ušiju još pušio onaj šugavi dim na vodi. Probauljali smo uokolo, ono da se malo protegnemo, a i da nađemo mjesto gdje ćemo popiti i poštelati kurs, pa smo tako nabasali na kapelicu i taj mol. Do njega su vodile strme kamene stube, a škrape okolo bile su obrasle nekakvom mesnatom puzavicom krvavocrvenih cvjetova, ko tepih. Jebote, veli on meni, što smo mi to sinoć uzeli? Prizor je stvarno bio kao da si na tripu. I siđemo ti mi na mol, Lady page 1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8 Copyright © 2004 GobQ LLC. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or in part without permission is prohibited, and tra la la... . SITEMAP : HOME BACK ISSUES SUBSCRIBE GOBQ STORE WHO AM US GOB WORDS LINKS COPYRIGHT SHITE FELLOW TRAVELERS EMAIL US MAILING LIST SUBMIT WRITING