Just sunday

I woke up even before the alarm clock and could rise with ease and delight. Rooms were fulling with sun and colour. My breakfast with the toasts, scrambled eggs and cheese was nearer to my perfect sunday breakfast than usual. Empty streets were strangely pick and dry.

The long lesson went on quickly. I enjoyed the lecture about “The storm” as it had critical details and few views on the main idea. At the break I wondered down the floor and saw the dark corridor with the lighted room farther.

The way home I had to talk with Nastya (girl from the college). A rural moment when you feel yourself on a dominating position and datest this. She is absolutely pretty, little and a bit naive girl who cannot talk without confessions. (or I can’t lead the conversation) Anyway as a lonely person she talks quite a lot without questioning. If theoratical talks be tennis she would be a beginner and me an intermediate. Doesn’t matter.

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My mom made the wonderful cheesecake with parrots and traditional expensive coffee for sunday. We managed to clear up the flat quickly and get away. Why I was irritated and closed for some time I didn’t know but it seemed so tiresome to discuss household questions out of home. The little shop hadn’t anything suitable as well as the trade centre. We took fri and coffee, tastes were so delightful as I hadn’t eat fri for ages. At one of my favourite shops there was the new collection and I couldn’t taste the beige blouse. Prices were high.

Sundays are good because of the boiled cacao and calm evening.


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