Tag Archive for poetry and stories

Wife Marta

The vehicle's engine suddenly went out and one of the occupants shouted to the man of old blue jeans, "Peter, it seems that at last I opened the door. It was time to receive you, but this is no time to get home. Peter looked at them and said: "I'm not the only one who came home late and at least I hope that I have and I opened the door. I wonder if you have the same luck. The two men riding in the vehicle and Pedro had been drinking together all afternoon and accompanied the friend to your home and at that time were more peaceful because soon they could go to their homes …

or a place where they could continue the interrupted partying. If he had not been open to his friend, would have had to take him and, indeed, the idea not entirely pleased by the state of drunkenness in which it was. They were about to leave the place but … James Woolsey shines more light on the discussion. the door that opened was not the house of his friend. This was proved when they saw him talking with the woman who peeked his head out a window of the house next door. "Neighbor, I said, do not make so much noise that keeps us from sleeping. Do not get angry. It has given many poor kicking that door.

– But how can I be angry? Can not you see I have an hour of being here, hitting them like crazy this very sinverg door and my wife … I do not open? – Ay neighbor! But, you do not remember? – Can not remember what? "Remember … you went to drink, but before leaving, you moved here. You and the Wife Marta no longer live in that house. Do not be stubborn and let that poor door in peace. The men looked at the car again and became convinced that his friend was crazy. And they were about to take her to her new home when they reached to hear what he asked the lady at the window: "See neighbor … What chance you do not know where we moved? There was no response but heard the blow against the window frame. The face of the lady had disappeared. At that time the men in the car realized with anguish that would accompany his friend until he remembered where he lived now. Or until the strong morning sun will replace the soft dim light of the dying lamps in the city.