bed [Theme] Page 2

“My eyes are much higher,” the girl said without any expression, exactly following John's movements. The journalist's remark made him smile: she hinted so subtly that he was forbidden to look into the neckline of her dress.
“You leave no chance for your admirers,” Lugo said, looking up. - For many men, rings on ladies' fingers are just an adornment, but hanging on a chain will be more serious. It's like a stop sign. If others who attended this celebration only pretend to be inaccessible and indifferent to acquaintance with a certain subtext, thereby trying to fill themselves up and interest themselves, you don't have to pretend - I see coldness in your eyes, even, it seems, my fingertips , in contact with your skin, go numb from your indifference to this kind of topic. It makes you desirable.
They, looking into each other's eyes as opponents studying their opponent, made a circle in a dance.
- Really? - complete indifference sounded in Nikki's intonation.
- I think that girls are too accessible, not only in terms of sex, but in terms of permissiveness, and if you add excessive stickiness, they only repel guys. We need to feel like a hunter. When a dead mouse is lying near your feet, which agrees to everything and at the same time considers itself a wild panther, it looks pathetic. Wretched, ”Lugo spoke every word clearly. - In addition, such girls by their behavior provoke the fact that they are used, in principle, there is a similar category of guys. Such people are used for their own purposes, often intimate, but I would never associate my life with a girl who at the very first meeting jumped into my bed, allowing me to do whatever I want with herself. Can you guess why?
- Because she can jump into another's bed with the same ease? Liebert suggested.
- Exactly. Why do I need a Sharing Girl? - said the birthday boy, circling with Nikki in a dance and not paying attention to the others. - Therefore, against the general background, you look regal. Not because you supposedly turn up your nose, but because you know your worth. You understand what you need and you won’t be exchanged for a small coin. Even here you came for some of your goals.
- Why did you decide that? - this time there was a slight interest.
- Why do they come to such events? Lugo nodded toward the bar. - Over there, the desire of many becomes especially clear: to find someone for themselves. Who exactly - this is already of secondary importance. Many ladies from the audience, as soon as I beckon them with my hand, will rush to my neck, not because they like me especially, but from an elementary calculation: a man who is able to organize such a party has some money in his pocket.
“And they are rather big,” Liebert said.
“Yes,” John didn’t deny. - Some are looking for a sponsor, others are sexual adventures, but they all stand out very clearly from the crowd, no matter how much they want to hide it. After observing them a little or exchanging a couple of phrases - that's all. You already know who came and why. Look and body language betray them. Your body signals that you are not looking for a lover or sponsor.
- Maybe I came just to have fun? - said the girl, turning on its axis, slightly touching Lugo's hand, which he held above her head.
“You are too serious for a person who came to dance,” the man objected, drawing Nikki to him again and entering a new dance circle with her.
- Perhaps I'm a good actress?
- No, Nikki, you are not playing. Otherwise, they would have already launched a female weapon of incredible power - coquetry.
- Yes, and you, as I understand it, are not trying to achieve something from the points that have been voiced, - said the journalist. - Otherwise they would not have spoken to me so openly.
- It seemed to me that you are one of those women who love truthfulness and straightforwardness. Am I wrong, Miss Liebert?
- Do we know you? the girl asked warily.
- Rather, it is a one-sided acquaintance. Or rather, even with your work. I read the last articles that you wrote - I want to say that you have the gift of expressing your thoughts and observations. Even then I thought it was nice to be with you and talk to you. Thank you for coming to my birthday today and allowing you to personally verify the veracity of my assumption, - the music died down, and Lugo, completing their dance, made a bow. “And thank you for our dance, Nikki.
He straightened up and, stepping closer to her so that she would surely hear him, added:
- I feel pride in you. Perfectly. This means that you will not grovel in front of the strong and will not sell out to the one who pays the most. I understand such things ... I wish you to continue to be as you are now.
- Thank you ... - said the journalist. - I want to wish ...
But she could not finish: Lugo raised his finger to her lips and, shaking his head, quietly stretched out:
- Shhhhhh ... I already have everything. And I don't need anything else. Perhaps I would like to be closer to you ... but someone else managed to win your heart. Even if I try to get you, it will get you nowhere. You even never they didn't try to flirt with me. I even envy that lucky man whose ring you have on your neck. I hope he is worthy of you. And you know, taking this opportunity, I want to tell you one secret, which is hardly such, purely because of male solidarity towards your chosen one: the wrong women - selfish, stupid conversations, boring and monotonous - squeeze men out like an orange in a juicer. Correct - invigorate like matins dew! Stay "correct" from now on.
John, just like at the very beginning, took Nikki's hand and, kissing the back of her hand and making a bow, went into the crowd.

women…. It is the same with the profession. Yes, there are sad artists, there are merry ones. For a good artist, his mood plays a small part, because he must be able to convey what he is looking at, as if it were something to advertise itself. The artist becomes impassive, he is like a lens, like the retina of the eye, receiving light and reproducing a picture. At the moment of writing a portrait or painting, you abstract from everything. There is only your muse or landscape, depending on what you write, and there is also your feeling that this person or object revived in your soul. What you see makes your mood. If the opposite happens, then this dissonance is caught on an intuitive level. You look, the technique is perfect, the colors are well chosen, but not that. Something wrong.

All interest lies not in the rapid dragging of the girl into bed, but in the subtle hints that a man and a woman give to each other.

Loneliness is a cold bed, and solitude is the warmth of a fire in a fireplace.

- There is nothing more to talk about before death?

You're the sound of a song
And I can't get you out of my head
You're the calm in the storm,
You're the voice sayin', "Come back to bed".

Ты - мелодия песни,
Которую я не могу выбросить из головы.
Ты - затишье посреди урагана,
Голос, который говорит: "Ложись обратно в постель".

necessary.

Music is like a green field or a warm bed; it's a place where you will always find refuge.

I wet the bed and blamed sister? The eighth circle of hell awaits.

I thanked him by staying near his temporary bed before you retire to your shitty shelter, but he only waved a careless hand in response to my words.
Isn't this selfless service on my part, he said. - I better not get caught their eye.
I had completely forgotten about the fact that he has his reasons to stay away from English soldiery. But I immediately came to mind, which is more secure, he could settle in for the night in a warm stable, rather than at my door on the floor.
- But here can anyone come, ' I said, then you will find.
He stretched out his long arm and closed the open shutter. The corridor was dark, and Jamie turned into a kind of shapeless mass.
They will not see my face, he said. Besides, my name does not represent for them any interest, even there I will call the present, which I'm not going to do.
- Yes, - with doubt I said, but does it not seem strange to them, what are you doing here in the dark?
I have not seen him, but judging by his voice he was smiling.
- Nothing like anglichanka. They'll just think I'm waiting in line.
I laughed and left the room. I lay on the bed and fell asleep in admiration of Jamie: afford free jokes, and he was scared even thinking about sleeping with me in the same room.

Natalia smiled and shook his head.
- Yes, you are, in fact, another person - not regretting, not surprised, she said. Looking at you now, you can believe in a miracle. How could a man who changed so much in just a year and a half? Hmmm... Look, she slightly frowned and looked long at his friend a stranger. You mentioned immortality. Tell me, do you do all that clerical stuff you believe?
- Yes, I see, nothing else - quipped Andrew. - Well, tell me, in return I can give at least one psychology, whether it is three four Freudian or Jungian? What? The chair, in order to avoid rubbing the rope on his neck? What else? Enjoyment? Funny. I now can't receive that if I have after that will be somewhere in the worm to turn. In the heart, for example, in the conscience...
- I think you have a syndrome of inflamed conscience.
What? - friendly Andrew laughed. Psychologists already got? Well, well, - he whistled in admiration. It is a syndrome of inflamed conscience?! It is interesting, what is it? And no chance of a syndrome of inflamed perception of God? Then all the Orthodox saints were very sick people.
Natalia stood up and once again filled the glasses.
- Let's drink eternal life, she suggested a little tipsy voice. Andrew took the glass and drank a few SIPS. - You understand me correctly, î continued Natasha. - I was referring to your self-blame. You are not a Saint for you, a regular bed can turn into a neurotic disorder. For someone with obsession can be to infect others for you not to infect another. It seems to me that the beginning of your neurosis became nightmares where people wanted to stone you, you wrote to me. You have it entwined - hatred and fear of making a response evil.
- Yes? And as suggested to get rid of neurosis psychology? I think she says: "to Destroy the guilt is possible only in practice. Afraid of something - go and do what you fear." Afraid of cockroaches - take and crush a dozen. Afraid of heights - climb up on the roof of a skyscraper. I'm need to give someone to stop being afraid to do it?
- You need not fear, sleeping with a woman.
The conversation took a comedic tone.

Then he remembered that once her mother answered to his question about whether adults afraid of death: "If you had a good day, got up early to go fishing with me, it was run, worked in the rose garden with Anthony, then in the evening you're tired. And even you, who hates to go to bed and be happy to lie down.
Life resembles one of these days. The idea that in the end you rest, brings peace and comfort. When things get difficult and tedious, eternal sleep is not as intimidating as before."

It is better to go to bed and repent about it, or just leave and then regret your whole life? What do I do? Better to repent, right? Better to repent, of course.


Quote in English

Boguskie made me a cot. After the barracks bunks, which used to sleep, the bed seemed unusually comfortable. The fact that I don't see the Germans not hear their cries and not have to fear that every minute of every SS can beat or even kill, giving the feeling of happiness.