Love story- this is an event or story of a love event from the life of lovers, which introduces us to the spiritual passions that flared up in the hearts of people who love each other.
Happiness, which is somewhere very close
I was walking along the pavement. She held high-heeled shoes in her hands because the heels were falling into the dimples. What sunshine it was! I smiled at him because it shone straight into my heart. There was a bright premonition of something. When it began to worsen, the bridge ended. And here - mysticism! The bridge ended and it started to rain. Moreover, very unexpectedly and sharply. After all, there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky!
Interesting…. Where did the rain come from? I didn’t take an umbrella or a raincoat. I really didn’t want to get wet to the threads, since the dress I was wearing was very expensive. And as soon as I thought about it, it became clear to me that luck exists! A red car (very nice) stopped next to me. The guy who was driving opened the window and invited me to quickly dive into the interior of his car. If the weather had been good, I would have thought, showed off, of course I would have been afraid... And since the rain got heavier, I didn’t even think for a long time. Literally flew into the seat (near the driver's). I was dripping like I had just stepped out of the shower. I said hello, shivering from the cold. The boy threw a jacket over my shoulders. It became easier, but I felt the temperature rising. I was silent because I didn’t want to talk. The only thing I was looking forward to was warming up and changing clothes. Alexey (my savior) seemed to guess my thoughts!
He invited me to his place. I agreed because I forgot my keys at home and my parents went to the dacha for the whole day. Somehow I didn’t want to go to my girlfriends: they were like their boyfriends. And they will start laughing when they see what happened to my expensive outfit. I was not afraid of this unfamiliar Leshka - I liked him. I wanted us to at least be friends. We came to him. I stayed with him - Live! We fell in love with each other like teenagers! Can you imagine... As soon as we saw each other, we fell in love. As soon as I came to visit, we started living together. The most beautiful thing in this whole story was our triplets! Yes, we have such “unusual” children, our “luck”! And everything is just beginning...
A story about instant love and a quick proposal
We met in a regular cafe. Trivial, nothing extraordinary. Then everything was more interesting and much…. The “interest” began, it would seem..., with little things. He began to look after me beautifully. He took me to cinemas, restaurants, parks, and zoos. I once hinted that I adore attractions. He took me to a park where there were many attractions. He told me to choose what I wanted to ride. I chose something reminiscent of “Super 8” because I like it when there is a lot of extremeness. I persuaded him to join me. She persuaded me, but he did not agree immediately. He admitted that he was afraid, that he only rode these as a child, that’s all. And even then I cried a lot (from fear). And as an adult, I didn’t even skate because I had seen enough of all sorts of news that showed how people got stuck at heights, how they died on such unfortunate “swings.” But, for the sake of my beloved, he forgets for a moment about all his fears. But I didn’t even know that I wasn’t the only reason for his heroism!
Now I’ll tell you what the culmination actually was. When we found ourselves at the very, very top of the attraction... He put a ring on my finger, smiled, quickly shouted for me to marry him, and we rushed down. I don’t know how he managed to do all this in a hundredth of a second! But it was incredibly pleasant. My head was spinning. But it’s unclear why. Either because of a wonderful time, or because of a great offer. It was both very pleasant. I received all this pleasure in one day, in one moment! I can’t even believe this, to be completely honest. The next day we went to submit an application to the registry office. The wedding day was set. And I began to get used to the planned future, which would make me the happiest. Our wedding, by the way, is at the end of the year, in winter. I wanted it in winter, not summer, to avoid banality. After all, everyone rushes to the registry office in the summer! In the spring, as a last resort...
A beautiful story about Love from the life of lovers
I was visiting my relatives by train. I decided to take a ticket for a reserved seat so that the journey would not be so scary. And then, you never know... There are a lot of bad people. I reached the border successfully. They dropped me off at the border because something was wrong with my passport. I poured water on it and the font smeared on the name. They decided that the document was forged. There is no use arguing, of course. That’s why I didn’t waste time arguing. I had nowhere to go, but it was a shame. Because I started to really hate myself. Yeah…. With my negligence... It's all her own fault! So I walked for a long, long time along the railway road. She walked, but didn’t know where. The main thing was that I walked, fatigue knocked me down. And I thought it would hit me... But I walked another fifty steps and heard a guitar. Now I was already answering the guitar’s call. It's good that my hearing is good. It's arrived! The guitarist wasn't that far away. I still had to go through the same amount of time. I love the guitar, so I no longer felt tired. The guy (with a guitar) was sitting on a large stone, not far from the railway. I sat down next to him. He pretended not to notice me at all. I played along with him and just enjoyed the music flying from the guitar strings. He played excellently, but I was very surprised that he did not sing anything. I’m used to the fact that if they play such a musical instrument, they also sing something romantic.
When the stranger stopped playing amazingly, he looked at me, smiled, and asked where I came from here. I noticed the heavy bags that I could barely drag to the “random” stone.
Then he said that he was playing so that I would come. He beckoned to me with his guitar, as if he knew it was me who would come. In any case, he played and thought about his beloved. Then he put the guitar aside, put my bags on my back, picked me up in his arms, and carried me. I only found out where later. He took me to his country house, which was nearby. And he left the guitar on the stone. He said that he doesn’t need her anymore..... I’ve been with this wonderful man for almost eight years. We still remember our unusual acquaintance. I remember even more that guitar, left on the stone, which turned our love story into a magical one, like a fairy tale...
Continuation. . .
My story is very interesting. I've been in love with Timur since kindergarten. He's cute and kind. I even went to school early for him. We studied, and my love grew and strengthened, but Tima had no reciprocal feelings for me. Girls were constantly hovering around him, he took advantage of this, flirted with them, but did not pay attention to me. I was constantly jealous and cried, but could not admit my feelings. Our school consists of 9 classes. I lived in a small village, and then moved to the city with my parents. I entered medical college and lived a quiet, peaceful life. When I finished my first year, then in May I was sent to practice in the area where I lived before. But I wasn’t sent there alone... When I got to my native village by minibus, I sat next to Timur. He became more mature and handsome. These thoughts made me blush. I still loved him! He noticed me and smiled. Then he sat down and started asking me about life. I told him and asked about his life. It turned out that he lives in the city where I live and studies at the medical college where I study. He is the second student sent to our regional hospital. During the conversation, I admitted that I love him very much. And he told me that he loved me... Then a kiss, long and sweet. We didn’t pay attention to the people in the minibus, but drowned in a sea of tenderness.
We are still studying together and we are going to become great doctors.
Current page: 1 (book has 7 pages in total) [available reading passage: 2 pages]
Irina Lobusova
Kama Sutra. Short stories about love (collection)
It was like this
Almost every day we meet on the landing of the main staircase. She smokes in the company of her friends, and Natasha and I are looking for the women's restroom - or vice versa. She is similar to me - maybe because we both completely lose the ability to navigate the huge and endless (as it seems to us every day) space of the institute. The long, tangled bodies of which seem to be specially created to put pressure on the brain. Usually by the end of the day I start to go wild and demand to immediately hand over the monkey who built this building. Natasha laughs and asks why I am sure that this architectural monkey is still alive. However, endless wandering in search of the right audience or women's toilet is entertainment. There are so few of them in our lives - simple entertainment. We both appreciate them, I recognize everything in their eyes. When, at the most unexpected moment, we bump into each other on the stairs and lie to each other that our meeting is completely unexpected. We both just know how to lie classically. Me. And she.
We usually meet on the stairs. Then we look away and look important. She explains sedately how she just left the audience. I am walking along the corridor nearby. No one admits, even under the guise of a terrible death penalty, that in fact we are standing here and waiting for each other. No one except us is given (and will not be given) to know about this.
Both very amicably pretend that they are incredibly happy to see each other. From the outside, everything looks so easy to believe.
– It’s so nice to meet friends!
– Oh, I didn’t even know that you would be passing through here... But I’m so glad!
– What do you have to smoke?
She holds out cigarettes, my friend Natasha brazenly grabs two at once and in complete female solidarity the three of us smoke silently until the bell rings for the next pair.
– Would you give me your notes on economic theory for a couple of days? We have a test in a couple of days... And you already passed the test ahead of schedule... (she)
- No problem. Call, come in and take... (me).
Then we go to lectures. She is studying in the same course as me, just in a different stream.
The auditorium is damp from the morning light, and the desk is still damp from the wet rag of the cleaning lady. In the back people are discussing yesterday's television series. After a few minutes, everyone dives into the depths of higher mathematics. Everyone but me. During the break, without taking my eyes off my notes, I sit at the table, trying to at least see what is written on the paper sheet open in front of me. Someone slowly and quietly approaches my table. And without looking up, I know who I will see. Who is standing behind me... She.
She enters sideways, as if embarrassed by strangers. He sits down next to you and looks devotedly into his eyes. We are the closest and best friends, and have been for a long time. The deep essence of our relationship cannot be expressed in words. We're just waiting for one man. We both wait, without success, for another year. We are rivals, but not a single person in the world would think of calling us that. Our faces are the same because they are marked with the indelible stamp of love and anxiety. For one person. We probably both love him. Maybe he loves us too, but for the safety of our common souls, it’s easier to convince ourselves that he really doesn’t care about us.
How much time has passed since then? Six months, a year, two years? Since that time, when was there one, the most ordinary phone call?
Who called? I can’t even remember the name now... Someone from a neighboring course... or from a group...
"- Hello. Come right now. Everyone has gathered here... there's a surprise!
- What a surprise?! It's raining outside! Speak clearly!
– How about your English?
– Have you gone crazy?
– Listen, we have Americans sitting here. Two came on exchange to the Faculty of Romance-Germanic Philology.
- Why are they sitting with us?
– They are not interested there, besides, they met Vitalik and he brought them to our dorm. They are funny. They hardly speak Russian. She (named the name) fell for one. She sits next to him all the time. Come. You should look at this! “
The rain that hit my face... When I returned home, there were three of us. Three. This has been the case ever since.
I turn my head and look at her face - the face of a man who, faithfully laying his head on my shoulder, looks through the eyes of a pitiful beaten dog. She definitely loves him more than me. She loves so much that it is a holiday for her to hear at least one word. Even if this word of his is intended for me. From the point of view of damaged pride, I look at her very closely and competently note that today she has her hair done poorly, this lipstick does not suit her, and there is a loop on her tights. She probably sees the bruises under my eyes, unmanicured nails and tired appearance. I have known for a long time that my breasts are more beautiful and larger than hers, my height is taller and my eyes are brighter. But her legs and waist are more slender than mine. Our mutual inspection is almost unnoticeable - it is a habit ingrained in the subconscious. After this, we mutually look for oddities in behavior that indicate that one of us has recently seen him.
“Yesterday I watched international news until two o’clock in the morning...” her voice trails off and becomes hoarse. “They probably won’t be able to come this year... I heard there’s a crisis in the States...”
“And even if they come, despite their shaky economy,” I pick up, “they are unlikely to come to us.”
Her face falls, I see that I hurt her. But I can’t stop anymore.
- And in general, I have long forgotten about all this nonsense. Even if he comes again, you still won’t understand him. As last time.
– But you will help me with the translation...
- Hardly. I forgot English a long time ago. Exams are coming soon, the session is coming, we need to study Russian... the future belongs to the Russian language... and they also say that Germans will soon come to the Russian Geographical Fund for exchange. Would you like to sit down with a dictionary and go look at them?
After her, he turned to me - it was normal, I had long been accustomed to such a reaction, but I did not know that his ordinary masculine actions could cause her such pain. He still writes me letters - thin pieces of paper printed on a laser printer... I keep them in an old notebook so as not to show them to anyone. She does not know about the existence of these letters. All her ideas about life are the hope that he will forget me too. I guess that every morning she opens a map of the world and looks at the ocean with hope. She loves the ocean almost as much as he loves him. For her, the ocean is a bottomless abyss in which thoughts and feelings drown. I do not dissuade her from this illusion. Let him live as easily as possible. Our history is primitive to the point of stupidity. So ridiculous that it’s embarrassing to even talk about it. Those around us are firmly convinced that, having met at the institute, we simply became friends. Two closest friends. Who always have something to talk about... It's true. We are friends. We are interested together, there are always common topics and we also understand each other perfectly. I like her - as a person, as a person, as a friend. She likes me too. She has character traits that I don't have. We feel good together. It’s so good that no one is needed in this world. Even, probably, the ocean.
In our “personal” life, which is open to everyone, each of us has a separate man. She is a biology student from the university. Mine is a computer artist, a rather funny guy. With a valuable quality - the inability to ask questions. Our men help us survive the uncertainty and melancholy, and also the thought that he will not return. That our American romance will never truly connect us to him. But for this love, we secretly promise each other to always show concern - concern not about ourselves, but about him. She doesn’t realize, I understand how funny and absurd we are, clinging to cracked, torn straws in order to float to the surface and drown out some strange pain. Pain similar to a toothache, occurring at the most inopportune moment in the most inopportune place. Is the pain about yourself? Or about him?
Sometimes I read hatred in her eyes. As if by silent agreement, we hate everything that exists around us. An institute that you entered just for the sake of a diploma, friends who don’t care about you, society and our existence, and most importantly, the abyss that forever separates us from him. And when we are tired to the point of madness from eternal lies and poorly hidden indifference, from the whirlwind of meaningless but many events, from the stupidity of other people’s love stories - we meet her eyes and see sincerity, real, truthful sincerity, which is purer and better... We never talk about the topic of a love triangle because we both understand perfectly well that behind this there is always something more complex than the dilemma of ordinary unrequited love...
And one more thing: we think about him very often. We remember, experiencing different feelings - melancholy, love, hatred, something nasty and disgusting, or vice versa, light and fluffy... And after a stream of general phrases, someone suddenly stops mid-sentence and asks:
- Well?
And the other one shakes her head negatively:
- Nothing new…
And, having met his eyes, he will understand the silent sentence - there will be nothing new, nothing... Never.
At home, alone with myself, when no one sees me, I go crazy from the abyss into which I fall lower and lower. I desperately want to grab a pen and write in English: “leave me alone... don’t call... don’t write...” But I can’t, I’m not capable of doing this, and therefore I suffer from nightmares, from which my other half only becomes chronic insomnia. Our jealous sharing of love is a terrible nightmare in my dreams at night... Like a Swedish family or Muslim laws on polygamy... In my nightmares, I even imagine how we both marry him and run the same kitchen... Me and her. I shudder in my sleep. I wake up in a cold sweat and am tormented by the temptation to say that from mutual friends I learned about his death in a car accident... Or that another plane crashed somewhere... I invent hundreds of ways, I know that I cannot do it. I can't hate her. Just like she did me.
One day, on a difficult day, when my nerves were shaken to the limit, I pressed her against the stairs:
- What are you doing?! Why are you following me? Why are you continuing this nightmare?! Live your own life! Leave me alone! Don't seek my company, because in reality you hate me!
A strange expression appeared in her eyes:
- It is not true. I can't and don't want to hate you. I love you. And a little bit of it.
Every day for two years we meet on the landing of the stairs. And every meeting we don’t talk, but we think about him. I even catch myself thinking that I’m counting down the clock every day and looking forward to the moment when she quietly, as if shyly, enters the classroom, sits down with me and starts a stupid, endless conversation on general topics. And then, in the middle, he will interrupt the conversation and look at me questioningly... I guiltily look away to the side to shake my head negatively. And I’ll shiver all over, probably from the eternal cold dampness in the morning.
Two days until the new year
The telegram said “don’t come.” The snow scratched his cheeks with hard bristles, trampled under the broken lantern. The edge of the most brazen of all telegrams protruded from his pocket through the fur of his fur coat. The station looked like a huge pheonite ball, molded from dirty plasticine. A door leading into the sky fell brightly and clearly into the void.
Leaning against the cold wall, she studied the railway ticket window, where the crowd was choking, and thought only that she wanted to smoke, she just wanted to smoke like crazy, drawing in bitter frosty air into both nostrils. It was impossible to walk, you just had to stand, watching the crowd, leaning your shoulder against the cold wall, squinting your eyes from the familiar stench. All the stations are similar to one another, like fallen gray stars, floating in the clouds of other people's eyes, a collection of familiar, undeniable miasma. All stations are similar to one another.
Clouds - other people's eyes. This was essentially the most important thing.
The telegram said “don’t come.” This way he didn’t have to look for confirmation of what he was going to do. In a narrow passage, a trampled drunk homeless man fell out from under someone’s feet and fell right under her feet. She crawled extremely carefully along the wall so as not to touch the edge of her long fur coat. Someone pushed me in the back. Turned around. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t say anything, and so, unable to say anything, she froze, forgetting that she wanted to smoke because the thought was fresher. The idea that decisions can gnaw at the brain in the same way that half-smoked (in the snow) cigarettes gnaw. Where there was pain, red, inflamed dots remained, carefully hidden under the skin. She ran her hand, trying to cut off the most inflamed part, but nothing happened, and the red dots ached more and more painfully, more and more, leaving behind anger, similar to a hot broken lantern in the usual pheonite ball.
Sharply pushing part of the wall away from her, she crashed into the line, professionally throwing away all the bag-men with her confident elbows. The impudence caused a friendly opening of the mouths of seasoned ticket resellers. She pressed herself against the window, afraid that again she would not be able to say anything, but she said, and where the breath fell on the glass, the window became wet.
- One to... for today.
- And in general?
- I said no.
A sound wave of voices hit the legs, someone was vigorously tearing at the fur side, and very close by, the disgusting onion stench of someone’s hysterical mouth entered the nostrils - so the indignant masses of the people righteously tried to take her away from the railway ticket window.
– I may have a certified telegram.
- Go through the other window.
- Well, look - one ticket.
“Are you kidding me, damn you...,” said the cashier, “don’t hold up the line... you..., moved away from the cash register!”
The fur coat was no longer torn; the sound wave hitting the legs went to the floor. She pushed the heavy door that went into the sky and went out to where the frost immediately bit into her face with sharpened vampire teeth. Endless night stations floated past my eyes (other people's eyes). They shouted after us - along the taxi stands. Of course, she didn't understand a word. It seemed to her that she had forgotten all languages a long time ago, and around her, through the aquarium walls, before reaching her, human sounds were disappearing, taking the colors existing in the world with them. The walls went all the way to the bottom, not letting in the bygone symphony of color. The telegram said “don’t come, circumstances have changed.” A perfect semblance of tears dried on her eyelashes, not reaching her cheeks in the vampire frost. These tears disappeared without appearing at all and immediately, only inside, under the skin, leaving a dull callous pain, similar to a drained swamp. She took a cigarette and a lighter (in the shape of a colored fish) from her purse and took a deep breath of the smoke, which suddenly stuck in her throat like a heavy and bitter lump. She pulled the smoke into herself until the hand holding the cigarette turned into a wooden stump, and when the transformation took place, the cigarette butt fell down of its own accord, looking like a huge falling star reflected in the velvet black sky. Someone pushed again, Christmas tree needles caught on the edge of her fur coat and fell onto the snow, and once the needles fell, she turned around. Ahead, in the hare's mark, loomed a wide man's back with a Christmas tree attached to his shoulder, which danced a fantastic funny dance on its back. The back walked quickly and went farther and farther with each step, and then only needles remained in the snow. Frozen (afraid to breathe), she looked at them for a very long time, the needles looked like small lights, and when her eyes dazzled from the artificial light, she suddenly saw that the light coming from them was green. It was very quickly, and then - nothing at all, only the pain, suppressed by the speed, returned to its original place. It stung in her eyes, spun in place, her brain shrank, and inside someone said clearly and clearly “two days until the New Year,” and immediately there was no air, there was bitter smoke, hidden deep in her chest as well as in her throat . A number, black as melted snow, floated out and knocked something off my feet, carried me away through the snow, but not in one place, somewhere - from people, to people.
“Wait, you...” from the side, someone’s heavy breathing reeked of a full range of fusel oils. Turning around, I saw fox eyes under a knitted hat.
- How long can I run after you?
Was someone running after her? Nonsense. It has never been like this - in this world. There was everything, except for two poles - life and death, in complete abundance.
– Did you ask for a ticket before...?
- Let's say.
- Yes, I have it.
- How many.
– I’ll pay you for 50 as if you were my own.
- Yes, let's go..
- Well, a measly 50 bucks, I’m giving it to you as if it were my own, so take it...
- Yeah, one for today, even the lowest place.
She held the ticket up to the lantern.
– Yes, that’s right, in kind, no doubt about it.
The guy crunched and held up a 50 dollar bill to the light.
- And the train is at 2 am.
- I know.
- OK.
He melted into space, like people who do not repeat themselves in daylight melt. “Don’t come, circumstances have changed.”
She grinned. The face was a white blur on the floor with a cigarette butt stuck to his eyebrow. It protruded from under sleepy drooping eyelids, and, fitting into the dirty circle, it called far, further and further. Where she was, the sharp corners of the chair pressed on her body. Voices merged in my ears somewhere in a forgotten world behind me. A sleepy web enveloped even the facial curves in a non-existent warmth. She bowed her head down, trying to leave, and her face only became a dirty white spot in the station tiles. That night she was no longer herself. Someone born and someone dead changed in ways that could not be imagined. Without falling anywhere, she turned her face away from the floor, where the station lived a nocturnal life that was not subject to consideration. At about one o'clock in the morning a telephone call was heard in one of the apartments.
- Where are you?
- I'd like to check out.
– You decided.
- He sent a telegram. One.
- Will he at least wait for you? And then, the address...
– I have to go – it’s there, in the telegram.
- Will you come back?
- Come what may.
– What if you wait a couple of days?
- This makes absolutely no sense.
- What if you come to your senses?
- There is no right to another exit.
- There is no need to go to him. No need.
“I can’t hear well—the receiver is hissing, but you speak anyway.”
- What should I say?
- Anything. As you wish.
- Satisfied, right? There is no other such idiot on earth!
– There are two days left until the New Year.
- At least you stayed for the holiday.
- I have been chosen.
- Nobody chose you.
- Doesn't matter.
- Do not leave. There's no need to go there, do you hear?
Short beeps blessed her path and the stars turned black through the glass of the telephone booth inside the sky. She thought that she was gone, but she was scared to think about it for a long time.
The train crawled slowly. The carriage windows were dimly lit, the light bulb in the reserved seat aisle was dimly lit. Leaning the back of her head against the plastic of the train partition that reflected the ice, she waited for everything to go away and the darkness outside the window to be washed away by those tears that, without appearing in the eyes, do not dry. The glass, which had not been washed for a long time, began to tremble with a small, painful tremor. The back of my head hurt from the plastic ice. Somewhere inside, a small, chilly animal was whining. “I don’t want...” somewhere inside a small, tired, sick animal cried. “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to, Lord, do you hear...”
The glass shattered with small painful tremors in time with the train. “I don’t want to leave... the little animal cried, - nowhere at all... I don’t want to go anywhere... I want to go home... I want to go home to my mother...”
The telegram said “don’t come.” This meant that staying was not an option. It seemed to her that, together with the train, she was rolling down the slimy walls of the frozen ravine, with melted snowflakes on her cheeks and Christmas tree needles on the snow, down to the most hopeless bottom, where the frozen windows of the former rooms glow with electricity in such a homely way and where the false ones dissolve in the warmth. the words that there are windows on earth, to which, having abandoned everything, you can still return... she was trembling, her teeth knocked out tremors where the fast train wheezed with agony. Cringing, she thought about the Christmas tree needles stuck in the snow, and that the telegram said “don’t come,” and that there were two days left until the New Year and that one day (it warmed with a painful artificial warmth) the day would come when she would no longer need to go anywhere drive. Like an old sick beast, the train howled along the rails that happiness is the simplest thing on earth. Happiness is when there is no road.
Red flower
She hugged herself by the shoulders, enjoying the perfect velvety skin. Then she slowly smoothed her hair with her hand. Cold water is a miracle. The eyelids became the same, without retaining a single trace of what... That she cried all night the night before. Everything was washed away by the water, and we could safely move forward. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror: “I am beautiful!” Then she waved her hand indifferently.
She walked through the corridor and found herself where she was supposed to be. She took a glass of champagne from the tray, not forgetting to give a sparkling smile to either the waiter or those around her. The champagne seemed disgusting to her, and a terrible bitterness immediately froze on her bitten lips. But none of those present who filled the large hall would have guessed this. She really liked herself from the outside: a lovely woman in an expensive evening dress drinks exquisite champagne, enjoying every sip.
Of course he was there all the time. He reigned, surrounded by his servile subjects, in the heart of the great banquet hall. A socialite, with an easy charm, he strictly follows his crowd. Has everyone come - those who should come? Are everyone enchanted - those who should be enchanted? Is everyone scared and depressed - those who should be scared and depressed? A proud look from under slightly knitted eyebrows said that was all. He sat half-sitting in the center of the table, surrounded by people, and, first of all, beautiful women. Most people who met him for the first time were fascinated by his simple-minded, attractive appearance, his simplicity and ostentatious good nature. He seemed to them an ideal - an oligarch who kept it so simple! Almost like an ordinary person, like one of our own. But only those who came into contact with him closer or those who dared to ask him for money knew how, from under the outer softness, a formidable lion’s paw protruded, capable of tearing apart the culprit with a slight movement of a formidable palm.
She knew all his gestures, his words, movements and habits. She kept every wrinkle in her heart like a treasure. The years brought him money and confidence in the future, he greeted them proudly, like an ocean flagship. There were too many other people in his life to notice. Occasionally he noticed her new wrinkles or folds on her body.
- Darling, you can’t do that! You need to take care of yourself! Look in the mirror! With my money... I heard a new beauty salon has opened...
-Who did you hear it from?
He was not embarrassed:
– Yes, a new one has opened and it’s very good! Go there. Otherwise, you will soon look like you are forty-five! And I won't even be able to go out with you.
He wasn't shy about showing off his knowledge of cosmetics or fashion. On the contrary, he emphasized: “You see how the youth loves me!” He was always surrounded by these same “enlightened” golden youth. On either side of him sat the two most recent title holders. One is Miss City, the other is Miss Charm, the third is the face of a modeling agency that dragged its charges to any presentation where there might be at least one earning more than 100 thousand dollars a year. The fourth was new - she had not seen her before, but she was just as evil, mean and impudent as everyone else. Perhaps this one had even more impudence, and she noted to herself that this one would go far. That girl sat half-sitting in front of him right on the banquet table, coquettishly placing her hand on his shoulder, and burst into loud laughter in response to his words, with her whole appearance expressing a greedy predatory grip under the mask of naive carelessness. Women always occupied first places in his circle. The men crowded behind.
Squeezing the glass in her hand, she seemed to be reading her thoughts on the surface of the golden drink. Flattering, ingratiating smiles accompanied her around her - after all, she was a wife. She had been his wife for a long time, so long that he always emphasized this, which meant that she also had the main role.
Cold water is a miracle. She no longer felt her swollen eyelids. Someone touched her with his elbow:
- Ah. Expensive! – it was an acquaintance, the minister’s wife, – you look great! You are a wonderful couple, I always envy you! It’s so great to live for more than 20 years and maintain such ease in relationships! Always look at each other. Ah, wonderful!
Looking up from her annoying chatter, she really caught his gaze. He looked at her and it was like bubbles in champagne. She smiled her most charming smile, thinking that he deserved a chance…. He did not get up when she approached, and the girls did not even think of leaving when she appeared.
-Are you having fun, dear?
- Yes darling. Everything is fine?
- Wonderful! And you?
– I’m very happy for you, dear.
Their dialogue did not go unnoticed. People around thought “what a lovely couple!” And the journalists present at the banquet noted to themselves that they should mention in the article that the oligarch has such a wonderful wife.
- Dear, will you allow me to say a few words?
Taking her by the arm, he led her away from the table.
-Have you finally calmed down?
- What do you think?
“I think it’s bad to worry at your age!”
- Let me remind you that I am the same age as you!
– It’s different for men!
- Is that so?
- Let's not start over! I'm already tired of your stupid invention that I had to give you flowers today! I have so much to do, I’m spinning like a squirrel in a wheel! You should have thought about that! There was no need to cling to me with all sorts of nonsense! If you want flowers, go buy it for yourself, order it, or even buy a whole store, just leave me alone – that’s all!
She smiled her most charming smile:
- I don’t even remember anymore, dear!
- Is it true? - he was delighted, - and I was so angry when you clung to me with these flowers! I have so much to do, and you come up with all sorts of nonsense!
“It was a little feminine whim.”
- Darling, remember: little feminine whims are allowed only to young beautiful girls, like the ones sitting next to me! But it only irritates you!
- I will remember, my love. Don't be angry, don't be nervous about such trifles!
- It’s very good that you are so smart! I'm lucky with my wife! Listen, darling, we won’t be going back together. The driver will pick you up when you're tired. And I’ll go by myself, in my car, I have some things to do…. And don’t wait for me today, I won’t come to spend the night. I'll only be there for lunch tomorrow. And even then, maybe I’ll have lunch at the office and not return home.
- Will I go alone? Today?!
- Lord, what is it today?! Why are you getting on my nerves all day?
- Yes, I take up so little space in your life...
- What does this have to do with it! You take up a lot of space, you are my wife! And I carry you with me everywhere! So don't start!
- Fine, I will not. I did not want.
- That's good! There is nothing left for you to want!
And, grinning, he returned back, where too many - much more important - were waiting impatiently. From his point of view, more special than his wife. She smiled. Her smile was beautiful. It was an expression of happiness - enormous happiness that could not be contained! Returning to the toilet room again and locking the doors tightly behind her, she took out a small mobile phone.
- I confirm. After half an hour.
In the hall, she again lavished smiles - demonstrating (and she did not need to demonstrate, that’s how she felt) a huge surge of happiness. These were the happiest moments - moments of anticipation... So, beaming, she slipped into the narrow corridor near the service entrance, from where the exit was clearly visible, and clung to the window. Half an hour later, familiar figures appeared in the narrow doors. It was her husband's two guards, and her husband. Her husband hugging the new girl. And the kisser is on the go. Everyone hurried to the shiny black Mercedes, the husband’s latest acquisition, which cost 797 thousand dollars. He loved expensive cars. Loved it very much.
The doors swung open and the dark interior of the car swallowed them completely. The guards remained outside. One was saying something on the radio - probably warning those at the entrance that the car was already coming.
The explosion sounded with deafening force, destroying the hotel's illumination, trees and glass. Everything was mixed up: screams, roar, ringing. Fiery tongues of flame that shot up to the very sky licked the mangled body of the Mercedes, turned into a huge funeral pyre.
She hugged herself by the shoulders and automatically smoothed her hair, enjoying the inner voice: “I gave you the most beautiful red flower! Happy wedding day, dear."
Part 1. Alyosha.
On the eighth day of the hike, I realized that I couldn’t go any further. Despite all the guys' worries, the flu did its dirty work. The all-terrain vehicle tractor, for which I was the mechanic-driver, and at the same time performing all other mechanical duties, remained mothballed at the base until spring.
There was no one to carry me in their arms; everyone was already overloaded. Someone remembered that there should be a stationary weather station about 15 kilometers away from our path.
I resolutely refused to be accompanied, got on my skis, threw a backpack over my shoulders and set off under the doubtful glances of my friends.
Trouble always comes unexpectedly: the snow beneath me suddenly settled and I found myself waist-deep in water. There was an opening under the snow, and I managed to fall into it. Having lost my skis, I had difficulty getting out onto the snow.
I don’t remember how I made it the rest of the way. I only remember that at the door of the weather station I tried to get up, but my legs couldn’t hold me and I collapsed on the porch. I woke up quickly. The nimble girls' hands had already undressed me and rubbed me with alcohol. After 10 minutes, I was lying under two blankets and drinking strong tea and half-and-half alcohol.
I woke up late the next day. It was light outside the window. “Girls,” I called.
A young blonde came out of the room, dressed in a light gray jersey suit that showed off her superbly developed curves.
Please tell me where I can see the station chief and do you know that a radiogram was sent to the party that I arrived safely?
The blonde smiled and replied that the radiogram had been transmitted, and I saw the head of the station, Natalya Vasilievna Kuznetsova, in front of me. “And this,” she pointed to the second girl standing in the doorway, is my deputy, Liya Vladimirovna Volina. And we already know about you. You are a mechanical engineer of the geological expedition Alexey Snezhin - she paused for a moment.
Ivanovich - I suggested.
This is how I met two... I just don’t know the word. In general, with people whose fate became my fate.
Part 2. Natasha.
Leah and I have been friends since childhood. We lived in the same house, studied at the same institute and were inseparable until the 4th year. Together at dances, together at lectures, together preparing for exams. At the end of the 4th year, I married a graduate student Volodya, who taught practical classes for us. After that, Leah and I began to meet less often. I was busy organizing my life, enjoying new sensations and feelings of physical intimacy with a man. I loved Volodya. We were young, healthy, and, after a short natural period of awakening of feelings (before marriage, I was a girl), I selflessly surrendered to the passion for love pleasures that had awakened in me. Volodya was more experienced than me. Although he never told me this, I guessed that he had women before me. But his past didn’t bother me. I enjoyed the present. Before marriage, I was completely unaware of the intimate side of family life, that is, theoretically I knew what was happening between a husband and wife in bed, and sometimes my girlfriends, for the sake of boasting, told individual episodes from their adventures, but I didn’t really believe them, I thought they were deliberately making it up to embellish the factual prose of sexual relations. I did a little sports, was healthy, was always in the midst of friends and comrades, and felt the demands of gender weakly. Only in the last six months before marriage, when our relationship with Volodya moved from kisses to more intimate ones, at night I felt longing and mentally tried to imagine how it would all be. At one time I was tormented by the question of what I would call mine... and him... in front of him, and in what words he would tell me about his desire... me. In reality, everything turned out to be much simpler and at first we did not need words to indicate this. The feeling of intense curiosity after the first time was replaced by a feeling of slight disappointment. I was a little hurt, ashamed, and everything happened so quickly that I didn’t have time to fully feel it all. When Volodya felt my blood on his fingers, he kissed me, said all sorts of stupid words to me, but that night he wisely refused once again to try to exercise his conjugal rights.
For three or four weeks I didn’t feel much pleasure, thinking that it was just the way it should be. I made my nest, made various purchases, was proud of my position as a married woman among my fellow students, and was generally happy with my family life. But gradually I began to enjoy the visit of my “friend” to my “house”. “Friend of the house”, that’s what we began to call it, although for the sake of acuity, sometimes we called things by their proper names, but that came later and Volodya taught me almost all the words. He really liked it when I asked directly what I wanted. At first I just lay under Volodya, but gradually, with his help, I mastered other positions. I especially liked lying with my back on the high cushion of the sofa. Volodya stood on the floor in front of me and held my legs, giving them different positions. At some moments I felt a little pain from the deep immersion of his head in me... but it was a sweet pain, I endured it and even sometimes deliberately did so in order to feel it.
True, at that time I did not understand some of Volodya’s desires and avoided them. So, I was ashamed to do this in the light and generally appear naked in front of Volodya in the light. I also didn’t understand the desire that arose in him to kiss mine... I always covered her up, putting my hands under the kiss. Now, having become somewhat more experienced in these matters, I understand why Volodya remained dissatisfied. He was obviously counting on reciprocal affection, but I didn’t understand this, and he didn’t dare ask for it. I was brought up in this regard with very strict rules and could not even imagine at that time that between a man and a woman there could be any other ways of satisfying passion, other than the usual introduction of a “friend” into the “house”. In general, she was a naive fool, which life very quickly enlightened me about. I also didn’t understand Volodya’s desire to take self-photos during our “visits.” He brought photographs of similar subjects several times, but I did not believe that what was depicted in the photographs could give pleasure and enjoyment to a man or woman. I thought that this was being deliberately posed to arouse the feelings of those who would look at it. Volodya even became interested in collecting such cards and photographs. He sometimes looked at them, after which he became very excited and tried to quickly get me into bed. At that time, I was more satisfied with feeling my husband in my ..... than considering how others do it. Obviously, Volodya completely satisfied me at that time as a woman. I was “full” and when I had a desire to feel his movement within me..., he always met halfway and even in excess. We didn’t want to have children before I graduated from college and therefore sometimes protected ourselves with an elastic band, and sometimes when Volodya and I got tired of it, we simply interrupted everything at the very last second, so that the seed remained on the sheets or on my thighs and stomach. Volodya wiped it with his or my panties and they were quite often stained. When Volodya was interrupted prematurely, I always felt sorry for him, because he did not experience pleasure to the end. And at that time I didn’t know how to help him. But it was quite simple, I only found out later.
After passing the state exams, I had to go to pre-graduation practice. Having said goodbye warmly to Volodya, at that time he was just about to leave somewhere, I went to the station, where the head of the group was supposed to meet us with tickets. To our great joy, he only got the tickets the next day, and the whole group of us went home. Knowing that Volodya was not at home, I opened the door with my key and entered the corridor. Volodya and I had an isolated one-room apartment. I put my suitcase down and started taking off my coat, and suddenly I heard Volodya’s voice. Wanting to please him that fate had given us the opportunity to spend another day together, I quickly entered the room and...
All these touching and sweet stories from real life, after reading which you begin to believe that this world is not so bad...
This is the power of love! So different, but so real!
I teach English at a social center for the disabled and pensioners. So before the lesson starts, my elderly students bustle around, open their notebooks, put on glasses and hearing aids. And so the 81-year-old student, adjusting his hearing aid, said to his wife:
Tell me something.
“I love you,” she answered in a whisper.
What? - he adjusted his device.
They both became embarrassed and he kissed her tenderly on the cheek. I have to teach English, but I'm crying. Love exists!
I’m 32. They didn’t sell me a martini in the store (I didn’t take my passport). The husband shouted across the hall: “Yes, sell it to my daughter, everything is fine.”
My grandfather loved borscht very much. And so the grandmother cooked it all month, with the exception of one day, when she cooked some soup. And it was on this day, after eating a bowl of soup, the grandfather said: “The soup is good, of course, but, Petrovna, could you cook some borscht tomorrow? I missed him madly.”
For 3 years of relationship they gave me socks, SOCKS! The most common cheap socks! When I opened the “gift” with a suspicious face, something fell out of one and jumped under the sofa. Containing righteous anger, she climbed after him, and there, covered in dust, lay a beautiful wedding ring! I get out, look, and this miracle is on its knees with a blissful smile and says: “Dobby wants to have an owner!”
My aunt has three children. It so happened that the middle child has been ill for 4 years and part of his brain has been removed. Constant intensive care, expensive medications. In general, you wouldn’t wish it on your enemy. The eldest, 6 years old, dreams of having hair down to her toes. I never cut my hair, I didn’t even allow the ends - I immediately got hysterical. Her class teacher calls and says she didn’t come to her last lesson. It turned out that instead of a lesson, she asked some high school student to cut her hair in order to sell her hair and buy medicine for the younger one.
From the moment my newborn daughter began to utter her first sounds, I secretly taught her to say the word “mom” from my wife, so that this would be her first word spoken. And then the other day I came home earlier than usual, and no one heard me. I go into a room with my wife and child, and my wife secretly teaches my daughter to pronounce the word “dad”...
Today I asked my husband why he no longer says that he loves me. He answered that after I crashed his car, the very fact that I was still healthy and living in his house was proof of his ardent love.
How interesting how fortune works: on the bus I came across a lucky ticket, I ate it, and ten hours later I ended up in the hospital with poisoning, where I met the life of my life.
When I went to school, my mother always woke me up in the morning. Now I’m studying in another city several thousand kilometers away, I have to go to school by 8:30, and my mother has to go to work by 10, but every morning she calls me at 7 in the morning and wishes me good morning. Take care of your mothers: they are the most valuable thing you have.
Lately, I often hear from others: “gone”, “he’s not who he was before”, “she’s changed”... My great-grandmother said: imagine your soul mate sick and helpless. Illness takes away the beauty from a person, and helplessness shows real feelings. You can look after him day and night, feed him with a spoon and clean up after him, receiving in return only a feeling of gratitude - this is love, and everything else is children's whims.
At a friend's dacha, the door to their house slams shut. At night I wanted to smoke, so I quietly went outside when everyone was already asleep. I return - the door is closed. And exactly a minute later my girlfriend came out into the street, who felt that something was wrong, woke up and went to look for me. This is the power of love!
I worked in a store with chocolate products (figurines, etc.). A boy about 10-11 years old came in. Pencil case in hand. And then he says: “Is there anything no more than 300 rubles? This is for mom." I gave him the set and he dumped a bunch of coins on the table. And kopecks and rubles... We sat and counted them for about 15 minutes, so nice! Mom is very lucky with such a son: he probably spends his last money on chocolate for his mother.
I once saw how an old man met an old woman at a bus stop. At first he looked at her for a long, long time, and then he picked several branches of lilac, went up to this grandmother and said: “This lilac is as beautiful as you. My name is Ivan". It was so sweet. There is a lot to learn from him.
A story told by my girlfriend.
Today she went to the store with her younger brother (he is 2 years old). He saw a girl, about 3 years old. He grabbed her hand and dragged her along. The girl was in tears, but her father was not taken aback and said: “Get used to it, daughter, boys always show love in strange ways.”
When I told my mom about the girl I liked, she always asked two questions: “What color are her eyes?” and “What kind of ice cream does she like?” I'm 40 now and my mom died a long time ago, but I still remember that she had green eyes and loved chocolate chip cups, just like my wife.
