Glorious epic, Glorious epic, sensei kept pronouncing this sentence with a hollow breath and a nostalgic air.

On our way to Bragança, his hands full of scars, he kept reminiscing about his bravery in war. He remembers one evening receiving a package. There was his twin brother's head with the initials of two notorious mobsters carved into the forehead. Alpha the Terror and Smokii the Bully, they then sent him an extra piece of his corpse every day.

The oldest will remember the brutal massacre of the DMs or even that of the YIN against the CRJK. It was a real bloodbath, the streets were paved with human flesh. Impossible to cross the street without taking a stray bullet.

Things have since calmed down, the seasons have advanced and we have aged. I even wonder if sometimes we haven't lost our reflexes? after all, the world is changing…. even Usania's mad scientist has disappeared! To say that at one time he made terror reign and more especially on Halloween night. I was there at the opening of Usania. I will always remember that first Halloween. We had and have never seen so many deaths as during the few hours of Halloween. How can we forget that?

He enjoyed it so much that night that he did it again year after year! And since, radio silence. And yet we never managed to find his laboratory. Mmh, Scofield what was his name to this mad scientist? Mic replied: Wasn't it bling-cru? Oh yeah, that's exactly it! A real psychopath this guy. I understand why some comrades are tormented and nostalgic for the past.

Lately while walking the quiet streets of Cordeiro I saw some local scum robbed at the convenience store but what surprised me the most was an old man crouching on the side of the building. He seemed to be writing something on the ground with a rock. Wanting to approach me, he noticed me and ran away. I then looked at what he was trying to write and it looked like this: 1Ǝ M@1 oP 16 Sav F BC 22. Something illegible, the old man had to escape from the mental asylum…

Maybe I should stop remembering that distant past now. We should go to the bar for a few drinks to forget and see our friends still present.

Sweet, sweet dancing death on the requiem of my razor's edge, like the leaves of a tree facing the wind. I am autumn and the breeze when little by little your greenery loses its color. At the first ray of sunshine, the dew will cover the foliage like the tears of a pure and bruised heart. Accept the iron between chin and chest and I promise you a rainbow like no other. bright red and warm, in order to fill the coldness of the night... Inhabitant of Usania... and more particularly you, inhabitants of the N15 zone, in your place, I will sleep with one eye open, because I am close to you and I will come and whisper all my love to you in the hollow of your ear... when I have detached it from your head. I have countless names and no matter which one you give me, it will be the last word you speak...

Vous pouvez discuter de la gazette par ici.
Monday 11 April 2022