It is
singular and filth the story of Renton. Children at school always thought about
him as a timid boy, hidden under a second skin. They picked on him when he
flamed playing football, but he never used to get into trouble. As he
remembers, he was Mum’s shiny boy.
Dad was
beginning to enjoy drinking since they kicked him out of the factory “because
they are just a bunch of fag godos”,
as he said. He saw his first fights at home, so he used to go down to the
clearing with the other boys to fly their bikes. There, he began to develop a
liking to cigarette’s tough smell. A new friend appeared in his life: together,
they took a kitten and woke up their homicide instincts.
After some
years, talking about him a timid boy sounds weird. “He’s out somewhere,
hurting” Mum said. He was no longer her shiny boy, but it didn’t matter to him.
The world never shined at him anyway.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario