Decision moment: to go or stay?
He doesn't care what a strange woman the man swears at. Some also have tattoos. A respectable and calm woman is as if the key to her treasure is tied to her by the thread of the marriage, and she is content with her tight, locked state. She is trying to be compatible, I think she. For some, the woman is still in hibernation, so let her sleep.
But as the work and the burden of her husband are on her back together, kicking, slapping and cursing descend one by one. The woman will not stand against him next time saying "Hit here and hit here, too." He will not be hospitable to violence in an air of domesticity, nor will he be so dull. As he climbs the stairs of his house, his dress of anger will remind him that he will never enter through that door again. Those footsteps won't echo in the house, she. The woman made this decision herself while working. She made herself believe she. He is still young, there are many years to live in his middle years. What should I do? To go or stay? Moment of truth. I can leave. I can rent a separate house and work here. Both of my choices are mine. Which one should I follow? Which way should I go? Both are sharp knives. Both are challenging journeys. The memories come full of holes in me and they dig into me. My tears suddenly fall as I collect those flavors in the morning dessert business. At that moment, he heard the sounds of his friend next to him. His friend both curse and celebrate. Is the groan of spanking slaps the grouchy mourning? The voices in my ear, the moaning of the woman, and the curse, on the other hand, seem to be buried in peace. She was not giving the woman's rights to her husband. A complete drunken bell-ringing drunk. "He asked me to get a marriage certificate. He wanted me to divorce." However, it was a magnificent request for me, and I immediately fulfilled it. I had listened to many similar stories. For this reason, I did not even give an answer. I stopped and immediately handed the document he wanted. Because there were many marriages that were crushed under these wheels. Few of them were able to survive, and they were associations of beautiful people both inside and outside.
People coming in and out where every crowd gathers, coming out the same way again. Is it possible? It will necessarily change. Of course, he is also affected by the communication dust and the smell that permeates him. There were people gathered at the mouth of the beehive, there were those who lingered as well as those who worked for their sustenance at that door. Those who came for fun, but we all wore work uniforms. While some of us carry that work apron on like a fur coat, some of us have a strange shape in them, with their drooping wrinkled wrinkles. Wherever a person's feet take you, wherever your feet take you '' Do you go to your side, the soot that goes to your side smells of soot. '' They neither said, '' The heavy stone neither takes wind nor flood. '' Some married men or women bring breadcrumbs to their homes with their feet. instead he was bringing filth and garbage. One against the other when leaning against the wall. To the other spouse who gives the feeling of having to endure and carry on the marriage out of the blue, of such an obligation. Before long �% B