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One day, while I was making his favorite spaghetti, he was staring at me. I couldn't feel his mood ... somehow I couldn't catch him. Suddenly I heard him say softly, "Oh, how messy you are." Stupor gripped my body. I raised my head to the cabinets above the counter. Everything looked like a kitchen booklet. I looked at the sofa and the dining room. The napkins were on the table, folded at right angles. At the same time, I had chosen their color to be in tune with the curtains and decorative pillows. And the clothes came from the closet, carefully ironed and accompanied by fragrance. Everything was in place. I was puzzled ... In a trembling voice I said only one "Please?" And he answered me ... There is no way you can look through my eyes. You are disordered. You cook in a swimsuit, you cry in comedies. You put on a dress for a walk in the park just because it's new, but you put on jeans and sneakers for dinner at a sleek restaurant. You have tousled hair and tousled thoughts. You don't like to arrange either. At home, everything is in alphabetical order, and in your soul there is none. I like that one too. I adore you like that ... chaotic and crazy. You have your own world, which I want to enter, not to organize, but to mess with you. And to laugh. Let's laugh a lot while we destroy the indestructible. What my love for you really is. You smell like madness ... you smell like passion. You were the reason I realized that I couldn't stand the smell of combed women. I had even developed an allergy. But with you ... I can breathe with you again! ” At that moment, I realized that the world is overflowing with male hands, but I want to wake up in these two! "
Short story by Ann Wood
Read 299 times
Written on 2021-04-02 at 20:36
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Between two lovers by unknown author translated by Ann Wood
"Do you know when I found out he was the man?One day, while I was making his favorite spaghetti, he was staring at me. I couldn't feel his mood ... somehow I couldn't catch him. Suddenly I heard him say softly, "Oh, how messy you are." Stupor gripped my body. I raised my head to the cabinets above the counter. Everything looked like a kitchen booklet. I looked at the sofa and the dining room. The napkins were on the table, folded at right angles. At the same time, I had chosen their color to be in tune with the curtains and decorative pillows. And the clothes came from the closet, carefully ironed and accompanied by fragrance. Everything was in place. I was puzzled ... In a trembling voice I said only one "Please?" And he answered me ... There is no way you can look through my eyes. You are disordered. You cook in a swimsuit, you cry in comedies. You put on a dress for a walk in the park just because it's new, but you put on jeans and sneakers for dinner at a sleek restaurant. You have tousled hair and tousled thoughts. You don't like to arrange either. At home, everything is in alphabetical order, and in your soul there is none. I like that one too. I adore you like that ... chaotic and crazy. You have your own world, which I want to enter, not to organize, but to mess with you. And to laugh. Let's laugh a lot while we destroy the indestructible. What my love for you really is. You smell like madness ... you smell like passion. You were the reason I realized that I couldn't stand the smell of combed women. I had even developed an allergy. But with you ... I can breathe with you again! ” At that moment, I realized that the world is overflowing with male hands, but I want to wake up in these two! "
Short story by Ann Wood
Read 299 times
Written on 2021-04-02 at 20:36
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
