Not so perfect Sunday

Strange day of boredom and tiny sadness.
But the morning was incredible. I woke up early and run to the pond where white swans relieved by the shining water. There were no people at the streets, all slept and didn’t know what a beautiful morning they had lost. I run with struggle and pleasure. Then good enough breakfast and the confusion of organisation. I texted much to Mary but she did not answer me. I did my daily things until we agreed to go to the park. Streets looked enjoying the spring, sun and blossom. At the cafe there were may interesting people who studied something. I ate the soap with bread – classic. My mind was open and easy for everything even for reading vocubulary aloud at the subway. Why not?
At the place I was early and took photos of people and exterior. It was the worse district than Arbat (really?): sectional house building, noisy dusty roads, poorer people. A hipe man bothered people with the books about god and twice went to me. I waged with arms and instantly demanded to go away from me. I waited while sun shone as in June but Mary hadn’t came yet. I wrote her, called her but there was no answer. Then she called and without any excuse said that she’ll come in twenty minutes (that was after her fifteen minutes late). She adviced to come to the cafe and wait for her. So I did. It had been the most despondent sitting in the cafe during this trip. Nor tiramusu nor mango tea nor a pear could dispel the bitterness inside. Immediately I’d hated all that mediocre people around, the cafe itself, the typical district, dust, noise and stir. The vision of the central district with it’s neat shops, cafes and good looking people seduced me to back there. And I got tired to wait. At the moment I directed to the park she wrote me. Finally we met by the station and she carried some snatch for us both as an apology. The reason of 1.5 hour delay was unexpected long sleeping. I still can’t say that I can get such flimsy explaination as reasonable.
So, we went to the park where she began to ask me about the yesterday. I told something and found that she didn’t know much about Pozner. It happens and does not matter. Though she left me again when instantly desired to try the local pancake. That was so boring and terrible to wait among trees and attrations that I called her. Actually the best thing was the ability to talk aloud sometimes without any responce. However, the forest and the lake were exciting as well as many trainers, the tennis courts and the pitch for football. She talked a bit scrappy and it was hard to converse long and profound – we were distracked by different fairs and fanny dogs. There were huge amount of all types of motobikes.
When we said good bye at the subway I felt the bitter sense of sadness. It wasn’t as good as it could be. There was something the same, something alike the monotone melody. The walk to the hostel I took many romantic photos and desired to buy the local chocolate again in the same old shop. But it was closed and I bought the jogurt. No talks this evening, please, only typing, watching Civilisation and reading the book. Please, I need some rest at my cave.

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