Story. “Hello.”

But you won’t hear me, right? And you will never hear, probably, after all … talking to you is a huge work. Trying to understand you, your calm-old character, all these instant changes, when in an instant you are fascinating with your radiant smile, and in the next already tore off everything, threw it to the ground, crumpled, trampled and did not even notice ..
In fact, I don’t know why I am contacting you. After all, you are a kind of ideal, you can even say that you do not really exist. How much does not exist in people from what is extolled by them. Everyone around has long been accustomed to use ordinary substitutes and, out of habit, apparently, even feelings begin to replace feelings. After all, the most important, most important feeling, albeit banal and beaten, now turned into simple, banal sex. Moreover, this substitution is sometimes so deep in the minds of people that … although what should I tell you to? After all, you yourself know very well that the skin ceases to be skin, the meat ceases to be meat, everything around is felt in which the soul was felt, from everywhere it disappears, as if people began to be panicky of her.
But you are not like. It’s simply impossible to get out of you. Apparently because you are so alone and does not look like anyone. You know, sometimes it seems to me that I do not need anyone except you. When I look out the window and see how you slowly pass by. Someone will say that I’m crazy. Let. It’s even better, because I don’t have to hide under some next mask.
But you also have it, this mask. And the real you are almost 2 different personalities, one of which is a bright, sunny, living girl, while the other is a cloudy, tired old woman, death sister.
You will ask which of the two of you I love?
And I will say that I love you and only you, autumn … I like the fiery outfit of the forest, the sun breaking through the foliage, and small, drizzling rain, when it blows all the last leaves from the trees in one night, turning them into orange porridge underfoot, low, gray clouds, slowly crawling somewhere, as if knowing some kind of truth and do not resist any truth and do not resist any truth to her…
“And the cooled tea,
And autumn evening. »©

The best comments

ideal
insignificant, but catching the eye

Damn, the story rushes) Reading in my head a song was spinning

Oh, transposed!1
I also love autumn … But as https://mindepositcasino.co.uk/mega-joker-slot/ you probably heard, there are a lot of country streets in my area, and this is FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

A small, drizzling rain, when in one night the wind blows all the last leaves from the trees, turning them into orange porridge underfoot, low, gray clouds, slowly crawling into the distance, as if knowing some truth and not opposing it ..

Criticism is cool, no need to inflate here.
Where are the mistakes?
I wrote like in openoffis, he marks out -of -the -flows.

garlic, this time I turned off the music when I read it – Russian words were distracted when reading) I listened right now – sincerely so … kindly)

Recently, stories have become popular. Main I continue to write my own?

P.S. Very well written

Well … thanks to her, I found out what the word “sphincter” means … But there is no anatomy. Logic, ingenuity, wit … oh b. This is a hairdryer post! It will come and punish for flood. 8-0