They never looked at each other, they never even thought about each other, they were shooted along by metro everyday, their pale faces reflected in perfectly cleaned windows. Every bench , every tree, every building had a touch of pretentious order and tidiness.
'What a stupid thing, that love is !', she hemmed. ' The phenomenon was created for those carefree ladies who have nothing to worry about, for somewhat outlandish ones'. It was one of her variant in the list of answers to the question 'what the word 'love' means for you'. 'We are predators and survive only for our own personality. The only way of living is to eat your neighbour when he is not necessary for you any more. We are in jungles of human fierceness.
'What a nasty thing, that love is! Who has created that?', he growled. We have to be higher than everything in this world, and no 'feelings' will prevent us from this aim.
It lasted for forty years, their decline came immediately, the cynics were not prepared to the new state.
It happened one autumn stormy night in a ramshackle small house. She was knitting a splendid jumper for her poodle. Suddenly somebody knocked the door. 'Please, help me', the stranger spoke in a hoarse voice. She took a double-barrelled gun and opened the door. She faced a terrible picture: the old men was standing with bleeding legs. She shrank back in horror. 'Please, help me', repeated he and lost consciousness. Something weird and unusual appeared in her soul. 'What could it be? Pity?', she mused upon. Somewhat divine powers directed her movings. She dragged him in and placed on the sofa, than bandaged him. Several hours passed and the wounded came to himself. As it turned out, he was an ex-banker and it was his drunk partners who beat him up. The old man started showing his real personality, his vivid and vivacious soul. A spinster could not realize why she was so fond of him, as through all her life she never shown any sympathy to somebody, not to mention love at all.
' I was so secretive and foolish', he said one day. 'I waited your appearance everyday at the metro station like a gulp of joy but I had no valour to talk to you. You were so unattainable'. She embraced him without saying a word. She still had no courage to open her soul.
Inference is never cancel your nature, otherwise you will be deprived of the huge piece of happiness.
'What a stupid thing, that love is !', she hemmed. ' The phenomenon was created for those carefree ladies who have nothing to worry about, for somewhat outlandish ones'. It was one of her variant in the list of answers to the question 'what the word 'love' means for you'. 'We are predators and survive only for our own personality. The only way of living is to eat your neighbour when he is not necessary for you any more. We are in jungles of human fierceness.
'What a nasty thing, that love is! Who has created that?', he growled. We have to be higher than everything in this world, and no 'feelings' will prevent us from this aim.
It lasted for forty years, their decline came immediately, the cynics were not prepared to the new state.
It happened one autumn stormy night in a ramshackle small house. She was knitting a splendid jumper for her poodle. Suddenly somebody knocked the door. 'Please, help me', the stranger spoke in a hoarse voice. She took a double-barrelled gun and opened the door. She faced a terrible picture: the old men was standing with bleeding legs. She shrank back in horror. 'Please, help me', repeated he and lost consciousness. Something weird and unusual appeared in her soul. 'What could it be? Pity?', she mused upon. Somewhat divine powers directed her movings. She dragged him in and placed on the sofa, than bandaged him. Several hours passed and the wounded came to himself. As it turned out, he was an ex-banker and it was his drunk partners who beat him up. The old man started showing his real personality, his vivid and vivacious soul. A spinster could not realize why she was so fond of him, as through all her life she never shown any sympathy to somebody, not to mention love at all.
' I was so secretive and foolish', he said one day. 'I waited your appearance everyday at the metro station like a gulp of joy but I had no valour to talk to you. You were so unattainable'. She embraced him without saying a word. She still had no courage to open her soul.
Inference is never cancel your nature, otherwise you will be deprived of the huge piece of happiness.
I am fond of your story, Tanya. You've managed to create vivid images in my mind by means of your manner of writing. But sometimes people are afraid to open his or her soul to other people, because somebody can trample on your feeling. How to believe people? - the question arises.
ОтветитьУдалитьThe story is really touching. There are always some people, who think as this woman does, but they think so,only until they fall in love themselves. and you described it very skilfully.
ОтветитьУдалитьThank you for your story it was very interesting to read and I think that there is a time for everything and everyone will understand sooner or later that love is the most important thing in the world. So that is why everyone should try to open their soul to someone.
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