Women s share англ
The first few months after the funeral held for her like a fog. Only through the son she was able to gradually recover from the loss. The child consumed all her time. And only at night, when he fell asleep, the loneliness returned and choked the tears that came. But she learned to fight it – she started Smoking. Smoke, relieving pain, calmed. Many nights she could spend with a cigarette and a Cup of coffee on the empty kitchen before her returned waiting. Waiting for the evening when she will finally be able to pick up her son from the kindergarten. Then, there was the expectation of his return from school, waiting for the first sporting success. A lot of water had flowed away before her life got better, and she stopped spending long nights talking to the photo. All her motherly love, all her soul, she gave to her son. No, she didn't spoil him, because life didn't spoil her. However, he always felt the constant care of his mother and grew up loving, intelligent, beautiful young man, pleasing her heart. She made a firm decision that he would become a soldier, but when he finished his school, came to her again, waiting. The anticipation of his visits to the vacation visits of the same beautiful, confident, strong, as once his father. And every time she met him, she thought to herself how his uniform suited him. Every time he came back, he burst into the house with a young wild wind, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in front of him and kissing her cheek, saying: ”MA, this is for you.” And she was happy again. And after each check-out again was waiting for him. Then he got that his appearance brought to her once again waiting. In her house again waiting. The expectation of a quick wedding, then the expectation of a grandson. All my life. Expectation. Expectation. Waiting ... " Yeah, that's probably how I'm going to finish this book. Girl, grandchildren – very nice” – made pometochki in Notepad. The sun had almost set. It was another warm, windless spring evening in her life. "Well, it's time to go home,” she thought, and, hiding a gray strand of hair under her handkerchief, she rose from the bench. The last time businesslike inspected she and, saying, carefree smiling from a photo of a young Lieutenant: "I will Come in a week. Goodbye, son’’ – slightly hunched, she slowly walked to the exit of the cemetery, towards, waiting for her at the entrance gate, loneliness.
Alexander Sluka
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How very Russian!
he slowly walked to the exit of the cemetery, towards, waiting for her at the entrance gate, loneliness. - Odd grammar structure.
Сергей Елисеев 26.02.2019 09:39 Заявить о нарушении
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