This is the story of Azizo, the Wasp. Well it is just as much my story, the story of Folletto and of our dying master to be franc, but compared to Azizo our stories are nothing to write about. And without him none of us would have a story to tell because for the last three years our destinies have been entangled. (New updated and edited version, enjoy!)
It was rather exciting to watch the guy, so I got on my knees to get at better view, hoping that he would shift his position allowing me to see what he was carrying around in his baggy army pants. The slow moves he was making indicated that I wouldn't be disappointed. And I kept my fingers crossed...
Well during my stay in Paris I used the Metro a lot, just like you do with the U-Bane in Berlin, the Tube in London and the Sub in New York, and there was something very exciting about the Metro. During rush hours people normally stand so close to one another that it is impossible not to touch the persons surrounding you, which, I have to confess, I exploited more than once. It is phenomenal...
My stay in Rome actually started out as a happy one. I enjoyed the beautiful castle and its surroundings - especially the well-kept gardens. I didn't spend much time indoors, this was the first time in my life I experienced spring.
As I started coming around again, in spite of all my efforts not to, I realised that I had an awful headache. Surely a surprise after the blow, which had almost made my skull cave in earlier that same day. Who ever wanted me unconscious had done a really fine job. I felt like dying, well I imagine that dying would feel just like this!