Character: Anton Gorodetsky. Page 2

Could never understand why women spend so much time at the stove. What's taking so long to do? Thrown into the water the meat or chicken, she turned the stove on, it's all by itself and cooked. In an hour have thrown pasta or potatoes, vegetables, any - here and prepared food. Well, salt is still necessary not to forget, this is the most difficult.

The rivers of eloquence have already filled the lake to my attention, about the Turkish delight of my heart!

The taxi driver smiled.
- ... Came from Moscow?
Yes.
With no Luggage... ay-ay-ay! - He clucked. - Is it lost?
- Emergency trip. There was no time to pack.
- Urgent? In our city there is nothing urgent. A thousand years ago, two thousand years ago, three thousand years - there was already a town. He had forgotten how to be urgent.

- Let's go home, - said Svetlana. - We... we need to talk, Anton. Have a serious talk.
How I hate these words!
After them there is never anything good!

The costume was already waiting for me. And tailor, muttering discontentedly that without stitching the second fitting is to marry for the wrong reasons. I do not know. If all marriages on the aerial were so successful, as this costume is, the number of divorces would have gone to zero.

... not always in a beautiful vessel - a good content.

- Holy? - grinned Edgar. Why are they Holy? They are soldiers.
- You know, Sometimes I think even the soldiers must remain first and foremost people. And people must be something sacred in the soul.
- First, you need to have a soul. And then Holy.

One day you will hear more as time rustling sand leaking through his fingers.

- Thank you, ö I whispered. - Yulia, thank you.
- Don't drink so much you don't know how, ' muttered the girl and snorted - just like switched instantly from work to sleep. So only children know how and computers.

I wanted something to do. As much as if I was a Genie released from a bottle after a thousand years of imprisonment. Anything to build palaces, to destroy the city, programming in basic, or embroider a cross.

- Are you saying that our job is harm?
- No. - Light wearily shook his head. - Do not want. I have no such conceit. One thing I want to say, maybe we really are the Light. That's just... you Know, the city appeared in the sale of counterfeit Christmas toys. They look like the real thing, but the joy from them whatsoever.

- You know what it is? To be condemned to love?
But isn't it so always? - Svetlana winced with anger. - When people love each other, when among the thousands and millions. It's always fate! <...>
- No. Light, you've heard this analogy: love is the flower? <...> The flower you can grow Light. And you can buy. Or it will give.
Anton bought?
"No," I said; too much, perhaps, said. - Received as a gift. From the fate.
- And so what? If it's love?
- Sveta, cut flowers are beautiful. But they live long. They're already dying, even carefully put in a crystal vase with fresh water.

- Betrayal is not small.
- Sometimes, Anton. More as it happens. Loyalty consists of a series of small and calculated betrayals. Trust me - I live in this world long enough to have time to verify this.
<...>
- You're good at sophistry, and Zebulun. Surely you are much stronger than me. But because you call things different names, the essence of things does not change. Betrayal is always betrayal.
- Well, - unexpectedly easily agreed Zebulun. - Then give love. In essence, you have a choice between two betrayals, don't you understand?

So we just catch on to our love.