It was morning. The supermodel was tall and olive-skinned. She was very skinny, verging on the ugly, had long thin legs and sported a big afro. She was wearing white. We were heading back to her boyfriend's place. We arrived at her tenement building, went up two storeys and came to her apartment door.
She went in first and I followed into a sitting room where Guzè Stagno, the famous Maltese writer, was sitting. He was her boyfriend. The supermodel went into the bedroom and came back all red in the face. She was very angry at Guzè. I looked inside the bedroom and there was a man sleeping in bed. Guzè Stagno had slept with another man behind his girlfriend's back. The man in bed had scruffy hair. He had a three-day stubble and wore thick, dark-rimmed glasses. He looked like an indie geek.
The supermodel was set on making the indie geek suffer for sleeping with her man. There was a synthesizer in the next room. She switched the synth on and connected a pair of headphones with a very long cable. She set up the synth so that each key would have a different sound effect - one would have the sound of birds singing, another the sound of a door shutting, another the sound of a ringing phone, another the sound of a train, etc.
The angry supermodel took the headphones into the bedroom and put them on the sleeping indie geek's head. The indie geek was starting to wake up but the supermodel told him, in a sweet voice, that she just wanted him to listen to a little tune she had written for him. The indie kid was still half asleep and he muttered "yeah sure" back to her. The supermodel looked at me and motioned me to play all the keys at once. I stepped on the sustain pedal and hit all the keys as hard as I could.
A sudden rush of white noise travelled from the synth through the headphones into the indie geek's head. The effect was devastating. The loud noise made him jump out of bed and go into violent spasms. He was twisting and turning and shouting like a madman. Unknowingly, he was moving backwards towards an open window
The indie geek pushed himself over the ledge of the window and fell through the window into the street below. I rushed to the window and saw him falling. He fell on his back. I was quite sure that he was dead. I recognized the street as the one in Mġarr where I used to live.
the endShe went in first and I followed into a sitting room where Guzè Stagno, the famous Maltese writer, was sitting. He was her boyfriend. The supermodel went into the bedroom and came back all red in the face. She was very angry at Guzè. I looked inside the bedroom and there was a man sleeping in bed. Guzè Stagno had slept with another man behind his girlfriend's back. The man in bed had scruffy hair. He had a three-day stubble and wore thick, dark-rimmed glasses. He looked like an indie geek.
The supermodel was set on making the indie geek suffer for sleeping with her man. There was a synthesizer in the next room. She switched the synth on and connected a pair of headphones with a very long cable. She set up the synth so that each key would have a different sound effect - one would have the sound of birds singing, another the sound of a door shutting, another the sound of a ringing phone, another the sound of a train, etc.
The angry supermodel took the headphones into the bedroom and put them on the sleeping indie geek's head. The indie geek was starting to wake up but the supermodel told him, in a sweet voice, that she just wanted him to listen to a little tune she had written for him. The indie kid was still half asleep and he muttered "yeah sure" back to her. The supermodel looked at me and motioned me to play all the keys at once. I stepped on the sustain pedal and hit all the keys as hard as I could.
A sudden rush of white noise travelled from the synth through the headphones into the indie geek's head. The effect was devastating. The loud noise made him jump out of bed and go into violent spasms. He was twisting and turning and shouting like a madman. Unknowingly, he was moving backwards towards an open window
The indie geek pushed himself over the ledge of the window and fell through the window into the street below. I rushed to the window and saw him falling. He fell on his back. I was quite sure that he was dead. I recognized the street as the one in Mġarr where I used to live.
Dreamt on the night of 03.12.2005
The night before:
Food: Tortellini followed by a variety of party food such as bruschetta, crisps, nachos and nuts.
Drink: Several cans of Stella Artois and Carlsberg. Punch.
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