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Where did the couple? :.: Article 27.08.2019 at 21:00 :.: Article

How much is written about love! But as many said... But more is not written and not said. Infinite topic, continuing somewhere in the depths of the Universe, fanned by mountain winds and illuminated by the stars. And at the same time tiny as a grain of sand stuck in the boot and also rubbing the bloody corn. Everyone knows how much trouble can one small grain of sand, that even to see it is not always possible. Love is unfailing. She was always, and has always been the same. The young dinosaurs was due to the love in the same way as today's youth, and the mammoth middle-aged preferred partners fluffier and more well-fed. But lately there has been a trend, meaning, and love can not be constant on which the world stands. Tell me, where did the happy couple? Well, or poor, whatever. Most importantly — where are they? Why they are every day becoming less? And if love somehow ended happy or a sad marriage, and even the birth of a child, but now everything is different. We no longer talk not only about children but also about marriage, too. Love modificeres. She still fanned by mountain winds, and the Moon is singing love your songs and work on the dancer. But something is changing... the other day I was watching a cat sitting on a windowsill in a typical country house, and I opened my eyes. I realized a lot about love and change it, I can feel where now the mountain winds, and I realized why the wink star became catty, and the moonlight faded. I realized where did the happy couple. And unhappy, of course, too. The cat was a city and a thoroughbred, a real model of feline beauty and grace. She never stepped foot outside the apartment and in the village, she brought in a special carry, equipped with pillow and the window — so it was not boring to go. And brought it not as a trap but as a companion of the mistress that was going to improve health in rural air. The cat in the amendment of health is not needed, but I had to go. The only thing that reconciled her with the move, it is quite urban convenience at home, but outside she was not going to go. Would be hunting legs dirty! She sat on the windowsill and looked at the surrounding landscape with the expression of a connoisseur of painting, accidentally fell to the exhibition of children's drawings. Bored expression was emphasized by its urban elegance, so combined with friendly environment. The cat elegantly raised his hind legs and began looking claws. I must say that the manicure she felt important and needed and doing it every day with the enthusiasm of a fanatic. Some movement outside the window caught her attention, and she froze with a raised back foot, staring out the window, Golden eyes. The landscape has changed — it appeared the cat. Huge, fluffy and black, with a white tie and white socks. Another attractive smear of white brush on a lush tail. The real count of Monte Cristo, which appeared to be on the ball right from his prison cell. He clearly wasn't a stray — it's too well-fed and well-groomed. In the village cats don't usually sit at home and walk where they want, returning home only to eat and sleep. They catch mice and moles, and sing loudly the songs of cat, enter the battle for the right to walk down the street or for attention of the opposite sex. Their life is simple and clear, they act, not talk. No dreams and sighs in the moonlight. Some believe their cats in several homes, as they feed, roost and bring in multiple hosts mice as a gift. They are bound not to people, to houses, and seem pretty thick-skinned, as I try not to show their feelings. But local handsome saw the miracle: in the frame of the window frame is a wonderful cat, so unlike the usual murok Music. And he stopped, stunned at the depths of feline hearts with elegance and perfection townswoman. The cat carefully perched on the windowsill, tightly wrapped feet tail and stared at the cat. He was filled with the gold of her eyes, and he sat motionless, looking at her. It is unknown what they agreed, but half an hour later the cat got up and went away, and the cat jumped off the windowsill as if nothing had happened. Since then, the visits became daily. The cat came always at the same time, sat under the same window, and Belle was waiting for him, sitting on the windowsill. They looked at each other half an hour and then he left. The program was unchanged. It is unknown what to expect cat. He had no such hope as the man — his lover could not hold the strip on the window sill. That cat never tried to get into the house, is quite clear: taught by experience throughout his life, he understood the senselessness and futility of such attempts. But the cat never wanted to leave the house. She just sat on the windowsill at the appointed time and looked at the cat. Only. Her that was enough. Her dreamy urban nature fed the illusion with the same success as Peter pan eat imaginary bacon and eggs, not managing to lose weight on this diet. Once under the window was a red cat, too, clearly intending to enjoy the city cat. And the eyes of refined beauty had been ugly cat fight, with wild cries, the flying pieces of wool and other attributes of this brutal battle. The cat, oddly enough, has not shown the slightest signs of shock. She calmly watched the fight, though such a sight was to her a familiar and even slightly overexposed. She even yawned lazily. When the fight is over — of course, the victory of the black knight! the cat stretched, arched her back and slowly ran his claws of the front legs on the glass. Came a dreary sound, but it was inspired by the cat, and on this day, the date lasted for two hours. But time passed, and nothing changed. The cat still sat on the windowsill, and the cat under the window, admiring it. And one day when it is late autumn Sapodilla gray clouds, the cat didn't come. She waited the extra fifteen minutes — quite a feat on her part, but he didn't. Two day the cat came to the window sill, but to no avail — the black cat disappeared, only autumn rain pounded into the glass, Yes, dangled in the wind the bald branches of a plum. More the cat was not washed on the windowsill. Well, what about the cat? It seems that he eventually realized that and have to eat dreams. But dreams, though, and a good thing to fill the mouth. Especially when it is clear that they will never come true. And he's not alone, this cat. Many, many cats waiting under the window to look at adorable cats who wash up on the windowsills. They admire the beautiful women, exquisite and elegant. Well, and then are forced to go to normal Murki and Musical. Which, though not so elegant, but always there, and not behind glass, and besides, you know the rules, be obedient and don't hold your man for a long time — he's got important things to do. All right. But here's how you can marry a Cat as well, if you have already dreamed of something sublime? Dream, even hackneyed, requires at least some loyalty. ...So where did the happy and even unhappy couple? They just can't make a pair. Those who need them, are behind glass and are not going to go out — after all, there may stain your feet, and even to gain fleas. And those who are already on the street, don't attract — they have fleas, and dirty paws. And be all sad love stories... ...

This article describe tags: couple, cats, illusions, love