Book: Three comrades. Page 4

The alcohol was for her the same as fat for rats.

Prostitutes - the most severe, but also the most sentimental creation.

- Gorgeous girl, isn't it? he asked.
- I don't know, Gottfried, ' I replied. - Not particularly to her eye.
For some time he stared at me with his blue eyes and then shook her red head:
- What do you do, tell me, baby?
- That's what I'd like to know myself, - I answered. He laughed and said:
- Look what wanted. Easily this knowledge is not given.

I was tired and knew that to sleep. Passed the "International" thinking about Lisa, about the years gone by, many other things long since forgotten. All departed in the distant past and as if no longer concerned me. Then I went to the street where Pat lived. The wind increased, all the Windows in her house were dark, the morning crept on the grey legs along the doors. Finally, I came home. "Oh my God, I thought,' I think I'm happy."

In the end people always come back.

In his hand was a letter. He looked like a man just got shot, but he still doesn't believe it and feels no pain, he felt far only push.

Submission. She was cheating? Fight, fight - that's the only thing that remained in the landfill, which eventually somehow be vanquished. To fight for what little you hold dear. And to obey you in seventy years.

If you were a real normal woman that I could love you.

- You don't forgive! I have long forgotten about it.
- And I'm not. I don't forget so easily.
- You should be...

I looked around. The locomotive was spewing smoke and sparks. With heavy, black rattled it through the blue night. We overtook a train - but we were back in the city, where a taxi repair shops and furnished rooms. As the locomotive rumbled along rivers, forests and fields, some given in the world of adventure.

After the war, he kept thinking: what is happiness - to live. In comparison, the happiness, everything seemed to him insignificant.

As if suffused with lead, we sat motionless behind the bar. Splashed some music, and being our light and strong. It powerfully spilled in our chest, we forgot all about waiting for us hopeless bleak furnished room, forgot about the despair of our whole existence, and the bar was transformed into the bridge of the ship of life upon which we noisily burst into the future.

- What have you been doing?
- Yes, actually, nothing. Just lived for yourself.
- Praise for it! There is nothing more beautiful.

I don't want to know. Now I just want to be happy.