I, being an absolute socialization maniac who concealed vienpaša the image, sat evening shadows apspīdētajā cafe ... Or maybe it was the bar? Coffee shop? Today, stackable washer dryer no longer stackable washer dryer really am not sure how all just as open and infinitely fashionable agency that actually neither one nor the other, the correct name. Although right now it just does not matter ...
I sat opposite a man who pretended to be absorbed in his newspaper in a large mat was open in front of him. The eyes seemed to read the top line, because the only way I was able to observe his face. This time it was easier for the simple - to determine that the man does not follow a single word or letter, printed toilet paper līdzīgajās, gray nomācošajās and amazingly neērtajās newspaper pages. Instead, they looked at one point targeted. A man had come to seek peace instead visnemierīgākajā Restaurant - Bar. Gray suit, who purchased any of the money and I can suggesting shops and ordering specially to perfectly fit his height, neatly combed hair, manicure and shiny patent leather shoes will undoubtedly pointed to his status in society.
There was evening, he stayed out slowly growing stackable washer dryer darker and darker, but the man still seemed a morning newspaper in your hands. Watching, I was completely forgotten about just how still so hot, but now cooled cup of coffee, which is invitingly jumping and basking in front of me. If only women would be as good coffee ... While the ladies certainly thinks the same way about us. It occurred to me or anyone else at all noticed things nological nature, but a little further tandem garrulous women who eagerly cast eyes on the expensive suit seated man, not attempted to be more than the suit. Of course, he had heard the loud conversations him strongly, so planned and unpleasant pale lip corners very slightly pulled up. Man's self-satisfied grin appeared on his face, which showed his intention to potential fulfillment. Also, I had learned that one of the noisy girls he will go to the home. Brunette or blonde? Brunette. No, the blonde. But why not take home just one? Perhaps, however, the two? His or her? Her.
The bar door opened, and rang at the door hanging, disgusting džinkstošais bell that every time ordered BERA existing pay your attention to the person who had just taken his foot over the threshold institutions. He had entered the room dressed in all black woman with red shoes and carelessly izpluinītiem dark hair with his dirty games were played in the wind. But it did not have it their are less distressed. Entered inside and shut the door behind him, large eyes immediately noticed the appearance so perfect a man and a woman on the lips appeared quizzical smile. I for unknown reasons she had to amuse the depths of the heart of what was saw. I did not understand a joke only he understood. Raitis step she crossed the bar and walked over to him.
-And Or when you're in something of a particle better? Also, you're making of properties! Also, its occupants and the stupid ķiķinošās girls are making of properties! We are all the props! Mannequins. Living debilizācijas. Degraded degenerates who are trying to make yourself an even bigger idiots in the eyes of other people just to fill their disgusting meticulous and amazingly raw expectations. We see what we want to see, and that's what we see becomes the truth, not only in our minds, but also their minds, that we are seeing.
-I Choose a brunette, but you already know. - Finally, a moment without losing derisive smile of his face, and the woman was with a wink of his eye and graceful stackable washer dryer step disappeared behind the front door, they quietly closed behind him.
Email (required) (Address never made public)
Search for: Recent Posts Life Answers piece of self-making of properties new beginning to the previous year the gravity on the shoulders Last comments Melnaismelnis making of properties on Living Archives October 2011 September 2011 Category of life considerations coups and Uncategorized Meta Register Log in Entries RSS Comments RSS WordPress.com
% D Bloggers like this:
No comments:
Post a Comment