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Sunday. Very sunny day to compare with outumn warmless. Light jumpers, sun glasses, peaple walk very slowly on the streets, not thinking about anything, next day or week. And I mean. Big hats and faded scarf few days later will be in the picture. Nearly slept all morning, then began to wonder how is there sunny outside the window. My curtains become apple-green light, the shadows followed my room walls, some shimmering imagery.

I had a chance of staying in bed after a while early mornings, but glistering sunshine did focus on my eyes - had to sit in bed. Suddenly I felt properly awake and thought: „Ok, instead of jumping out of bed I will read a book. Sure“

The house I stayed it was an old house and had different genre of books colection. The owner care about them keeping the book shelves clean from dust and tidy, in order to leave all this expencives goods to the progeny I never saw. 

Last night I walked into the sitting room. Mr Malkom (the house owner) was resting by the fire place, on the wiggling chair, with a brown covered book in his hands. I can not tell how different he seemed to me that moment; he looked distracted and full of fluster; he's thick dark eyebrowns was full of accent to he's very thin pale face.

We sat on the sofa, between us was a tall leg table with a emty vase on top of it, we had a cup of tee. I recognise it was a bit of ours tradition since I come to this house. He was a lonely, according I never saw any visitors, exept a post man by the door step, who did bring a newspaper every week on monday. Strange man too, a big heavy-rock body, hard sholders with a loose open tshirts showing he's hairy chest, blue jeans, a juvenescent looking man of half he's age younger, I thought.

He asked me about my past, my family, my town I come from. The more I spoke about myself, it make me feel in trap - I reluctantly asvered to he's questions. Soon I started to avoid him.
Once I locked in to my room and pretend asleep. I listen of a jingle of a teespoon agains the cup, and laid in bed with my eyes wide open, thinking. I have no family, no friends, they grow up. My past? Dropped, completely out, there is nothing to remerber, everybody is in shade. I suppose, thats why I'm here.
2010-10-17 18:06
Į mėgstamiausius įsidėjo
Šią informaciją mato tik svetainės rėmėjai. Plačiau...
 
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2011-03-13 15:45
EyesTrueDe_Lies
Ir kaip tau atsidekoti, gerasis zmogau?.. Dar nesutikau tokiu geranoriu rasyke.
Dekui.
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2011-03-13 13:21
diukasniukas
Baisiai parašyta, ištaisiau, kiek įmanoma, bet, jeigu būčiau tavo anglų kalbos mokytojas, sedėtum po pamokų visus metus.

Sunday. Very sunny day in comparison with outumn warmth. Light jumpers, sun glasses, people walking very slowly on the streets, not thinking about anything, next day or week. And I mean it. Big hats and faded scarfs few days later will be in the picture. Slept nearly all morning, then began to wonder how is it sunny outside the window. My curtains became apple-green lit, the shadows followed my room walls, some shimmering imagery.

I had a chance of staying in bed after a few early mornings, but the glistering sunshine focused on my eyes - had to sit in bed. Suddenly I felt properly awake and thought: „OK, instead of jumping out of bed I will read a book. Sure.“

The house I stayed in was an old house and had a book colection of various genres. The owner cared about them, keeping the book shelves clean from dust, in order to leave all these expensive goods to the progeny I never saw.

Last night I walked into the sitting room. Mr Malkom (the house owner) was resting by the fire place, on the wiggling chair, with a brown covered book in his hands. I can not tell how different he seemed to me at that moment; he looked distracted and full of fluster; he's thick dark eyebrows were full of accent compared to his very thin pale face.

We sat on the sofa, between us was a tall leg table with an empty vase on top of it, we had a cup of tea. I recognise it was a bit of our tradition since I came to this house. He was lonely, accordingly, I never saw any visitors, except the post-man by the door step, who was bringing a newspaper every week on Monday. A strange man too, a big, rock-heavy body, hard shoulders with a loose open t-shirt, showing he's hairy chest, blue jeans, a juvenescent looking man of half the owner's age, I thought.

He asked me about my past, my family, my town from which I came from. The more I spoke about myself, the more I felt caught in a trap - I reluctantly aswered his questions. Soon I started avoiding him.
Once, I locked myself in my room and pretended to be asleep. I heard a jingle of a teaspoon against the cup, and laid in bed with my eyes wide open, thinking. I had no family, no friends, they grew up. My past? Dropped, completely out, there is nothing to remerber, everybody are in shade. I suppose, thats why I'm here.
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2011-02-01 15:44
pilkė_
Na, truputį patraukiau per dantį dėl "nesuprantamumo". Ne tiek dėl klaidų, aišku, ir jų, kiek apskritai tokia... keista raiška. Manyčiau, reikėtų rašyti ta kalba, kurią gerai... labai gerai moki. Kita vertus, aišku, žodynai geras dalykas, ir jeigu labai knieti pabandyti, kodėl gi ne. :)
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2010-12-02 17:22
Ati Gilk
*autumn
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2010-11-10 12:22
EyesTrueDe_Lies
Na, nežinau kodėl tau nesuprantama, šiaip rašiau su žodinėliu ir knygomis, klaidų palikau vis tiek, nežiūrint to. Daviau skaityti anglui, viską suprato.
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2010-10-29 11:31
pilkė_
Mąstau: ar čia man nesuprantama kalba parašyta, ar man šiaip kas nors netvarkoj?.. Gal yra koks angliškas žargonas, kurio nemoku?..
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