XXX: I have a story.

I noticed that the wife of my comrade began to build my eyes and then to open the pencil, to shake the 5th, then accidentally hit the width. I enjoy this, the more the girl is prominent and all good, but this is the wife of a comrade and therefore - a taboo! He was constantly rejected by invitations to a cup of tea to a comrade, in exchange for calling to himself or to the cocktail, where we drank with him). Learned that they are divorced and that he does not understand what this fool needs, and the money in the family is and his health is excellent, and she is angry and scandalizes constantly.

They divorced and a couple of days later he left with things and their common square on a long journey. We celebrated with him his freedom and his departure as in the army, fun, loud and long. The next day I spent the whole day at the water.

More like in the movie!

In the evening the door bell - a white-haired beauty in a coat stands on the threshold and asks for guests. If Budan has not yet let go, if painted it was too bright and unusual, but I honestly did not even immediately recognize the former wife of the comrade whose yesterday accompanied.

Of course let in. She does not remove her long heels, from which her back is so slightly washed back, and then shaking them from side to side with her graceful walk passes into the room where the TV flashes, I quietly raise my jaw and melt the track. At the center of the room, it unfolds, and with the words - I am to you, I'm all yours strips off the coat and under it only a naked body. I confess admired her for a while, her gorgeous figure, breasts, long hair that so beautifully lay on her buttocks, and then asked - I want tea?

She shrugged her coat, but agreed.

We sat in the kitchen, I tried to make her understand that it was not right, the wife though the former but my friend and that I will not change our friendship for a hole and so on, she made a few more attempts but in vain, in the end I called her a taxi and sent home.

Some month later, I meet a comrade on the street, he cried out to me from a distance, all the lights in the guest cries, says that his wife has calmed down, she called him and offered to come together, he on the joys of a business trip arrived much earlier due to this. I found a lot of reasons not to come. At the next meeting told me that the child is already planning, and then I decided to invite him to me.

He came from a darker cloud, argued with his wife, said that to me and she broke out of the chain and again scandals about nothing, he shrugged his hand and left. Put on the table a liter, at the end of the bubble I still told him what I had at home after his departure and that he does not need to have children with it. Comrade psychoanul and with the words of killing flew home.

A week later, he calls me and, like nothing else, offers me to sit down, he says mentally the last time it was, a good friend added. I was surprised but agreed, I did not recognize him when I met him, he shines even brighter, holds his hand tightly, hugs, knocks on his shoulder, and repeats constantly that I am his true Friend. I am completely surprised what is happening, well, after another Saturday drink he told me - that his wife formerly formed, her life took her, took herself into her hands, the child again wanted, and all that was with me, it was she decided to check his surroundings how much I am a good friend to him, and I asked for this check!! to



Yyy: Yes, it’s just a socially acceptable explanation. Most likely, a friend clarified the relationship, then calmed down, flattered and decided to stay with his wife. But there is a problem - he has a friend to whom his wife offered herself all that, and who directly advised to send her away. It turns out, you need to either stop communicating with a friend, or put yourself in front of him full of deer and cloth. And he (she? are they?) This is a convenient version for everyone.

You may have pretended to believe. You did right – otherwise a friend would have to choose between your wife and you, and he didn’t want it. In politics, this is called “allowing to preserve the face.”

I go to work in the evening. The children walk, my way runs along the trail between the garages, there is a confinement lounge, I go beyond the corner of the garages and I have time to notice that the cover of the lounge turns and lies almost in place. I decided to see what was there, and there the boy failed and I can't get him, I'm looking for a suitable rod (rope, etc.) There’s nothing around, I remember that there’s a belt on the jeans, I take off the bag down, the boy grabs him, I pull it out. I begin to put the belt in place, at this moment a man comes out from the corner and looks at the picture, I stand with the belt pulled out behind the towns with a crying boy. Well, the boy confirmed my words about saving him.

The inaction of the authorities always leads to the self-activity of the people.

The Last Fishing

Vasya – my comrade operator-extremist bought somewhere in the Yaroslavl village a house near the water, to come there in the summer with vodka, and back with fish, if lucky. I picked up the car with my brother. Terrible, not especially painted and even without wings, but the trailer turned out to be quite spacious and clearly strong. We loaded up to the refusal with all the rugged good and spandored to "Niva". I was also summoned to three, in a purely male company, to go missing for a week, to remember youth, to cook ears.

But the day before the departure, Vasyn's grandfather, a godfather and a Moscow intellectual in some generation, met, so, he also asked us for fishing.

Vasya and his brother, of course, began to answer him:

- Grandfather, well, you yourself think, four hundred kilometers in the heat to shake, and also your wheelchair (grandfather, then failed to fall, broke the hip neck and temporarily moved to the wheelchair). Well, okay, let the wheelchair go to the trailer, but no matter, grandfather, why are you so nervous? You’re ninety-two and you’re under pressure.
- Nothing that pressure, twenty grams of watermelon I will take as a hand... That is the fact that I have ninety-two, and I have never been fishing, but just gathered. Thro his life he has been breathing lead in his printing. And then, who takes me to the first and last fishing, like my grandchildren?

The roof was nothing, took my grandfather.

And here, in the evening, on the terribly liquid road after the rain, we naturally stuck. And also in the hill. All we needed was fifteen meters to the top of the hill, and here it is, our village. "Niva" roars, dirt is thrown, and we rise in the trailer, the veins are torn. One behind the wheel, two push, then we change, only the grandfather in the front seat sits, cries, worries. We have already removed the bags from the trailer and the inflatable boat and the wheelchair. There was only a diesel generator left, but it only weighed like a tank.

Here we stood back again, and we cannot move a millimeter, suddenly "Niva" smelt and grandfather called us with Vasey. We have arrived.

I just turned around and saw that you were pushing the truck wrong.
In other words, are we wrong? We push it all, and what else?
You were like little kids and still wanted to go without me. The instruction is simple: one lies with the chest on the left wheel, the other on the right, resting your feet on the ground and the business will go. The trick is that the top of the wheel moves much easier than the whole wheel, and the hands here are not especially needed, the main legs.

Nothing to do, I lay down with a white shirt on the dirty wheel, and the matter really moved from a dead spot. Twenty minutes later we were on the mountain. They rested.

Vasya asked:

Grandpa, how do you know how to push the trailer? You have never had a car, you have no right.
There were no cars. and what? But I had a rifle and I drove it two thousand kilometers behind the wheel with my chest.

P.S

Two years later, Grandpa went to his squadron. They ride there, probably, their rifle, smoke and tell each other wretched anecdotes.

The Day of Victory.
Remember those guys.

“Dear man, I made blinkers and removed the car a little.
What did you do?
The Blinds.

My husband has not worked since the end of April. At first, he metals like a tiger in a cage without work, without the usual mode, without other people. Then relaxed a little. I drank wine and watched the series. I decided to do repairs in the kitchen. have done. We make the last strikes. A little worried that the money was running out. I thought it was enough until June. Yesterday he was sinking after reading a message on Viber. I thought at least someone was fired. I already introduced as breakfast, lunch and dinner I cook potatoes for children without salt and then he says, "From tomorrow I go to work. at all.”