Today were in the nature of Botanic Garden. Good moms gone bad. Grade: cash teen delicious and simple food, good mood and went into our little trip.

The day was so warm that it was not even spring. Sun has spared no rays and their only fresh veterok uspokaival heated skin.

In Botany crowds of people burned fires, riding bikes, on the sun tan. It cost no small uedinennuyu polyanku find work in the shadow of trees with stones and logs for the fireplace. We found, as were pastures happy! And just had a wonderful time!

Bonfire dispersed in mosquitoes moment, we have time and again supported podbrasyvali twig-fire. Cottage potatoes, steamed bread, sausages. Eat all with a huge appetite vprikusku with Juicy vegetables.

I rasslabilas full-… following the game solar zaychikov in leaves of trees, fight for a place on the forty-two line. Listened singing birds rustle of leaves, joyful screams "tourist" away and enjoy life.

When we gave zhivotiki until failure, and even left a few baked potatoes and bread, played cards. Told funny stories. Laughed without any provocation. Dreamed. And ni-ku-da did not want to leave … ostanovis, fly!

At the moment, I felt revulsion. Razedalo brains oppressive sun. People adhesive potnoy crowd snovali get on the street, terlis on me, glass eyes and looked stank. At many phone aleli komarinye bites. For whites, without maiden tan legs, they krasovalis like kiss passionate lover.

The crowd. Tekle market continued stifling wave. It seemed that nothing was breathing.

Guba iskrivilis in my capricious grimasu and I could not hide his disgust. I was hot. It is stuffy. Dust urodovala my new shoes. Traveled in the eye. Larger particles skripeli on her tooth, leaving a dry taste.

Come to the tray, saw what I needed. Saleswomen looked at the empty cow believe me, "What would like to buy?" I replied. She silently protyanula required me good. I saw something a dusty, sticky, in dirty podtekah. Woman begun looked at me, "What is it you razglyadyvaete there?" "I see it dirty. Could I get another?" "There is no other. On one," prolayala woman and continued with mounting Hysterical: "Street same. What is not VIDITE? I WORK IN THE STREETS!". I silently looked at her, and uhmylnulas protyanula goods ago: "I ask." Saleswomen are no longer owned, "That’s topay here." I looked at her and quietly leave me revulsion, a sense of the crowd, someone else’s sweat, self-adhesive smelly tel. I became almost fun. In the eyes sparkle performed. Leaving, I once again looked at the woman is the sverlila me korovimi their eyes and blunt objects as if something were waiting for. "I wish you all the best." Guinea and went further … finally uspev notice expression embarrassment, surprise, shame on her face.

Spain times Inquisition. Odolevaemaya passion, the rebel, a harsh country.

It was the time when everyone, obronivshy accidental, neugodnoe church floor, could never see the white light, being cloistered in tuition, confessed under torture, in what has never been committed. The time when one succeeds another power also rapidly as the day is changed overnight.

Even today the church tackle who live, and who-die, and today raided the French with their eternal spirit of the recalcitrant free, proclaimed the new king and sentenced to a penalty of clergy. And come tomorrow, and the British returned to power dark inquisitors.

At that time, he lived and worked great painter Goya. Surprisingly and symbolically shown in the movie of his life. It is as if by the monitors to look in his country. In any power he writes paintings, capturing images of this on his canvas and engravings. Do not try, not concealing any love, or nakedness, nor mud, nor pain.