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A woman without skin
The woman woke up early in the morning of the first day of Winter. This Winter, by all indications, promised to be long and cold. The woman woke up from a wild, inhuman Pain. Pain screamed in every cell of her body. She even blinked from the Pain, and when he opened his eyes, then understood. A woman has lost her skin.
When and where she lost it was already not important. And it was important one. How now to live further without the skin. And is it possible initially. To live without skin. Blanket, sticky unreliable shield of sensations, treacherously stuck to her naked bloody meat.
The woman screamed in horror. Trembling hands began to tear the blanket from her naked flesh. She pulled a crumpled duvet cover from myself. Broke the nails and again pulled.
At ripped to pieces tore it all from yourself. Thick black blood was still wet patches on the torn blanket. The pain never left. The pain only became stronger. IT was impossible to survive. And the woman knew that she would not survive this. So suddenly accomplished and what happened.
Of the last forces she is still forced myself to get up. She is naked in its helplessness before all this, rushed into the street, She now did not care that passers-by surprised pointing fingers, blatantly staring at her.
The woman went to look for all those men who were once so long ago and most recently in her life. She somehow intuitively knew exactly where to look for his missing skin. The first man for a long time did not open my door.
And she called and called indifferent, cool and silent door. Finally the man still opened the heavy door. Rather, only opened it and stuck his head outside. Hi - She said. Give me my skin! Give everything that belongs to you. But the man could not or did not want to give her anything.
I have already stitched from a piece of your skin a great wallet — he said sheepishly, trying not to look in her eyes. I'm sorry, but I can't give it to you. That's where I keep my money. The man abruptly slammed the door before the woman and left her to stand, naked and bleeding, on the cold empty stairwell.
The woman went to look for another Man. The person with whom she once was very good. Someone She once loved. It was long...So long that everything seemed blurred and unreal. This man revealed to her just the same. Like always waited for her appearance. Give me my skin wearily asked his Woman and reached out her hands to Him.
Can't — answered the one who once betrayed her. I've made out of your skin floor Mat. I wipe their feet on it, whenever included in your apartment. The woman looked down and saw a piece of their lifeless skin, rubbed into holes. The woman ran on. She knocked, pounded, wept and moaned in the empty and now closed to her the doors of her past.
But there is no it is not opened and nothing was given! Everyone needs something was torn osmotica her skin. Only now, all men used them for other purposes. The woman walked, or rather sauntered to his home. Passers-by continued to show on her fingers. IT was algor. And even more she had scars. They lived their separate lives in her soul.
Like the wound is gone. Ragged ugly scar has formed in its place. But it is only an appearance. The wound hurts even more. And the pain breaks through the hardened and rough skin of scars and is given directly in the heart. The woman knew it was now only one. She obliged, simply obliged, to survive this Winter. And in the Spring, maybe she will meet the man who will help her survive, help to grow new skin.
Says the Woman is like a Peach. She's got all the feelings out. Pulp. And the Man like a Walnut. He has all the feelings inside. And sometimes man hurts and scratches with its hard shell such tender flesh of a female mental Pulp.
See also: About THOSE and NOT THOSE people
The night is darkest before dawn
The woman woke up early in the morning of the first day of Winter, by all indications, promises to be long and cold. She woke up from a wild, inhuman Pain. The pain screamed and sobbed shaking in every cell of her body. The woman even squinted from the Pain, and when he opened his eyes, piercingly understood. A woman has lost her skin.
That's how many of these Women live among us. Bare your soul. Without a skin. Such are defenseless and helpless. We see them immediately. But, alas, they no longer see us. They don't see anyone right now... posted
© David Tumarinson
P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©
Join us in Facebook , Vkontakte, Odnoklassniki
Source: www.proza.ru/2012/08/29/526
When and where she lost it was already not important. And it was important one. How now to live further without the skin. And is it possible initially. To live without skin. Blanket, sticky unreliable shield of sensations, treacherously stuck to her naked bloody meat.
The woman screamed in horror. Trembling hands began to tear the blanket from her naked flesh. She pulled a crumpled duvet cover from myself. Broke the nails and again pulled.
At ripped to pieces tore it all from yourself. Thick black blood was still wet patches on the torn blanket. The pain never left. The pain only became stronger. IT was impossible to survive. And the woman knew that she would not survive this. So suddenly accomplished and what happened.
Of the last forces she is still forced myself to get up. She is naked in its helplessness before all this, rushed into the street, She now did not care that passers-by surprised pointing fingers, blatantly staring at her.
The woman went to look for all those men who were once so long ago and most recently in her life. She somehow intuitively knew exactly where to look for his missing skin. The first man for a long time did not open my door.
And she called and called indifferent, cool and silent door. Finally the man still opened the heavy door. Rather, only opened it and stuck his head outside. Hi - She said. Give me my skin! Give everything that belongs to you. But the man could not or did not want to give her anything.
I have already stitched from a piece of your skin a great wallet — he said sheepishly, trying not to look in her eyes. I'm sorry, but I can't give it to you. That's where I keep my money. The man abruptly slammed the door before the woman and left her to stand, naked and bleeding, on the cold empty stairwell.
The woman went to look for another Man. The person with whom she once was very good. Someone She once loved. It was long...So long that everything seemed blurred and unreal. This man revealed to her just the same. Like always waited for her appearance. Give me my skin wearily asked his Woman and reached out her hands to Him.
Can't — answered the one who once betrayed her. I've made out of your skin floor Mat. I wipe their feet on it, whenever included in your apartment. The woman looked down and saw a piece of their lifeless skin, rubbed into holes. The woman ran on. She knocked, pounded, wept and moaned in the empty and now closed to her the doors of her past.
But there is no it is not opened and nothing was given! Everyone needs something was torn osmotica her skin. Only now, all men used them for other purposes. The woman walked, or rather sauntered to his home. Passers-by continued to show on her fingers. IT was algor. And even more she had scars. They lived their separate lives in her soul.
Like the wound is gone. Ragged ugly scar has formed in its place. But it is only an appearance. The wound hurts even more. And the pain breaks through the hardened and rough skin of scars and is given directly in the heart. The woman knew it was now only one. She obliged, simply obliged, to survive this Winter. And in the Spring, maybe she will meet the man who will help her survive, help to grow new skin.
Says the Woman is like a Peach. She's got all the feelings out. Pulp. And the Man like a Walnut. He has all the feelings inside. And sometimes man hurts and scratches with its hard shell such tender flesh of a female mental Pulp.
See also: About THOSE and NOT THOSE people
The night is darkest before dawn
The woman woke up early in the morning of the first day of Winter, by all indications, promises to be long and cold. She woke up from a wild, inhuman Pain. The pain screamed and sobbed shaking in every cell of her body. The woman even squinted from the Pain, and when he opened his eyes, piercingly understood. A woman has lost her skin.
That's how many of these Women live among us. Bare your soul. Without a skin. Such are defenseless and helpless. We see them immediately. But, alas, they no longer see us. They don't see anyone right now... posted
© David Tumarinson
P. S. And remember, only by changing their consumption — together we change the world! ©
Join us in Facebook , Vkontakte, Odnoklassniki
Source: www.proza.ru/2012/08/29/526
