Get the minuses, so receive. My story is a old park)) (new ending in the comments)

The city was resting after a daytime heat, languidly substituting buildings and streets under the rays of the outgoing sun and under a cold breeze that brings the smell of gasoline, grass and burning. The park, an absurd, old park, erupted through the streets, which once belonged to a nobleman, and now only his house, converted under the House of Culture, reminded of those exquisite days.
One person loved this park, an island of life among death. Outside of this park there were empty, embittered people, the cold of concrete and the ruthlessness of asphalt, and in the park – young couples, happy mothers with strollers, random drinks and lovers of dominoes. As if the park ennobled people, made them a little kinder, hid everything evil and bad, located in them and pulled out only good.
This man loved to walk in the evening, happily leaving someone else’s shell of his house. She opposed this, did not let go, but this is his hour, his rest. He believed that everyone has the right to be alone. And she hired a detective to follow him. No trust. Why should he cheat on her? What will change, he will become better with another girl? Search for comfort in someone else’s bed, fire, he considered it stupidity. Shady trees that have seen so many were the best interlocutors for him than young girls – potential his mistresses. After all, with trees it was possible to shut up a lot, they perfectly understood everything from the height of the years. And he sat right on the grass, enjoying silence and peace, and only the squirrels made him company, jumping mischievously around, and random passers -by passing through the alley. But people rarely walked along this alley, it was too gloomy, groomed, it was not a short road, and looked more like a well -groomed park. He loved it and loved. Silence and her desire to be the one she is, and not someone else.
Everything is as always. Silence, only the wind noisy does not approval in the crowns. The squirrels went somewhere. And you can’t see a detective. Apparently, he finished his work – “Now you can go to your mistress” – he jokingly thought to himself, at the same time missing the proteins. It was funny to watch them. Silence and peace. What else can you wish for?
There was a moan, and at the end of the alley a girl appeared, staggering, she walked along the alley. He jumped up and ran to her:
– Everything is with you … – he stopped short when he saw the beautiful eyes of the girl. They looked at him with sorrow and with a terrible grief – what happened to you? You call an ambulance? I can help somehow.
He was confused, he had never seen such a look in his life, almost never saw, besides the incident … Memories-sadists, painful, began to awaken, trying to free themselves again from the captivity of oblivion. He tried not to think about it when the girl whispered:
-Leave
-Excuse me? – He did not hear what she said.
-Leave! – She pushed him away.
“Crazy,” he thought and was about to move away from her. Just in case. He felt disgust. His favorite park, his favorite pastime was defiled by some crazy. For the first time in a long time, he decided to go home early. The dull mood disappeared, the usual anger and irritation straightened the wings. He turned his back to her, and the wind brought quietly, clogged, clogged:
– What can you give?
-Excuse me? – He turned with curiosity to her. The wind continued to play with herbs and with crowns, and an uneven sunset painted the world in a crimson light. Silence.
-What did you just say? -he asked, and was going to say something else, but stopped short, stumbled upon the girl’s crazy eyes. I sighed, the clums of himself for being distracted by crazy. Running his hand into his pocket, he felt for the warm-up plastic of the cell phone, deciding to call an ambulance after all. Madmen should not walk around the park at night.
– No need to call – she muttered, looking for a moment normal, smart, all understanding eyes. But it lasted seconds and disappeared as fast as life flies. Crazy eyes looked at him again. He cringed and began to gain an ambulance when she knocked out a cell phone out of his hands, he fell to the ground, and the girl finished it with his elegant leg and looked at him triumphantly. He was taken aback. And she. She asked:
– You love strawberry ice cream?
-Uh … what? – He was taken aback even more, leaned toward his cell phone, collecting the brave remains of him – he served me for three years.
He really felt sorry for the mobile phone. He was his friend.
-You love strawberry ice cream? – She impatiently repeated her question, looking at him with daring curiosity – yes, especially when the moon cries of dead love.
– Clear. Yes, I also love strawberry ice cream – the main thing is to agree with her, then she will not be raging. And she is dangerous? Will not grab a knife and will not slide it? He hoped a stupid, naive hope that no.
– It seems to you that I am delirious, that I am an unfortunate city fool, which was called affectionately Mashenka or Sveta in the village. But I’m not crazy – her eyes flashed with an unkind spin, she flushed, and began to wave her hands, gesturing violently – no, I am not at all not like that. Although I seem like that. To seem – two different things. It doesn’t seem to you? And which of us is normal – you, or I. What are the criteria of normality? Mental normality – easy debilism.
She laughed at a light, melodic laugh that turned into a deaf cough. He stood, not daring to move, thinking that he had hit, and passionately wanting to get rid of her. Having cleared, she stared inquiringly at him, waiting for his word. We must act, say:
-Well … uh … you are right – he answered uncertainly, hoping that this answer will satisfy her.
-This is all? This is all you can say – she indignantly folded her hands on her sides – yes you are just a mile. How many hopes, how many aspirations were connected with you, and you tell me that I am right. And that’s all – she went there with indignation – here in front of his nose, and put her finger threateningly, poking his chest in his chest – you are just an old, worthless loser, who professed his life and waiting for tomorrow in the morning, but it never came. Is it true? Therefore, you are sitting in this fucking park, complaining to proteins and trees. And you know why they? Yes, because they cannot send you to, call you an asshole. Who are you actually. An asshole whom everyone hate.
Everyone has their own buttons, by clicking on which, without hesitation, you will climb into a fight or scandal. He started up, forgot that he was crazy in front of him:
-Who are you to talk about it? – But sadness and pity for himself devoured him from the inside – you are miserable ..
He stopped short, remembering who is facing him. Silent. What to argue with her, he felt a pity for her. She stood proudly like a winner. Having enjoyed in full his defeat, she said:
-Follow me. I’ll show you something.
She moved away along the alley. He stood motionless, looking after her. She turned around and waved her hand impatiently. He did not budge. Then she said one word, only one word, and he followed her, like a lamb behind a shepherd. So called his mother in a distant, semi -mythical and forgotten childhood.
They walked silently along the alleys of the park, eaten by a busy darkness. The trees became higher and higher, straightened and dropped a hypocritical mask of civilization, the bushes turned into thickets, and the alley turned into a narrow path winding in a drunken frenzy past the trees. He stopped in amazement:
-Where we are?
She looked at him condescendingly, and said tiredly:
– In the park, fool – gently looked at him
– But he has changed. He became like the forest – he asked timidly
– He became what he always wanted to be – the tone of the teacher, who once again an incomprehensible student of simple things, she answered him.
-The old park wanted to be a forest? He asked stupidly
-Yes. What is this – she shrugged perplexedly and ran, laughing, between the trees, hiding in a fog, which was suddenly attacked by the world, and squealed him into a burial shroud. He shouted:
– Where are you? – But the sound of his voice was captured by the fog, like other sounds. To the touch, deciding, he went forward, feeling his hands, afraid to stumble or hit the tree. The second time in the evening he was held by a crazy. Reded more than the former, he made his way in the fog, physically feeling his sweet taste. Having wandered a little, he went out in an open place, the fog parted like a curtain, exposing a clearing. In the middle of her, rushing into the sky invisible now, there was a pillar with a terrible face carved on it and sprayed with something red. A crazy, playing with a bloodied knife leaned against him with his back. Fog made her figure not clear, evaporating in cold, blurred air. She looked like a ghost of a faithful lover, deceived and killed, returning from the other world to take revenge for her death. He stopped, fascinated by this wonderful vision of an angel-Menia. She, as if, without noticing him, took a flirty pose and beckoned to her:
-That you are stupid, there is. Come here – she fell silent, and then mysteriously promised – soon it will end soon.
The fog thickened so much that he ended up in a white jelly and did not finally see where he was going. The world was impoverished, everything disappeared, only its distant, melodic voice, beckoning it to him. He made his way through the fog, he had to come to her for a long time, to the pillar, but the clearing, by feeling, turned into a huge, endless valley. He wandered along her, on the distant call of his siren, and could not reach her in any way. How much did he go? Hour, day, month, year, age, second? Time has lost all meaning, time ceased to exist, only fog and voice remained. Fog and voice. And thoughts in the head, spinning, painful and burning to the soul. He could not stand it, fell on the frozen ground, and breathed heavily. The voice disappeared, only this damned fog remains. He tried to gather strength, with thoughts, but both were no longer left. Only emptiness. What he was so afraid of. The sounds of the city were heard, the noise of the crowd, hurrying in his "important matters". He turned his head with difficulty and saw the light in the fog. A crazy voice told him:
– If you are tired, then you can return, relax.
-No – decisively and evil he answered her – if I return there, then I will never see you again.
-Why? I’ll be waiting for you.
-They will not let go. No one will let me go – he leaned facing a cool stone in order to hide tears. She calmly asked:
– Do you want to reach?
-Yes
-Then you need to give one small, unnecessary thing
-What?
-Life. All the same, it costs nothing, because it is priceless, but the fact that it has no price is worth nothing.
-Fine. Take it.
Quick blow. It’s time to get up and move on. Where his star shines.

The best comments

Yeah, for the magical word of the https://sportsbettingmedia.co.uk/latest-news/find-a-bookies-near-me Gaikoslary, unbelievers will brush you. For the multiphabukaf without pictures will also be shut up)))

No, I even think that somewhere closer to the end of the story I can replace the text with squeeze from any porn story and no one will even notice it))))

Changed the ending. The story is not ready yet. I feel something else I will change. Somehow everything is bad. I can’t write much, but I am killed because I write little or nothing. Creativity- game in Russian roulette. I can’t stop writing, although I want. Some things should simply exist.My path is just beginning. There is not enough impudence to introduce a donat, although I understand that no one will pay. I hope there are no thoughts on blogs and for this no one will kick me)
The fog thickened so much that he ended up in a white jelly and did not finally see where he was going. The world was impoverished, everything disappeared, only its distant, melodic voice, beckoning it to him. He made his way through the fog, he had to come to her for a long time, to the pillar, but the clearing, according to the sensations, turned into a huge, endless valley. He wandered along her, on the distant call of his siren, and could not reach her in any way. How much did he go? Hour, day, month, year, age, second? Time has lost all meaning, time ceased to exist, only fog and voice remained. Fog and voice. And thoughts in the head, spinning, painful and burning to the soul. He could not stop. Another step. There was no strength left. Another step. Pain. Another step. Memories. Another step. Weakness. How many such steps are left? How many? He fell to his knees and looked up. God did not see him because of the fog. Nobody saw him. Nobody believed in him.
Hope, like a light of a match, trembling in the wind, ready to go out. The only thing he has left. Rising with difficulty, staggering, he wandered further. And escaped from the suffocating captivity of the fog. He saw again, heard. The world was born again for him. A wide meadow and a lonely hibara rose in front. And behind them, chic, black, a curtain-car, embroidered with silver stars, the sky shone. Where to go? He confidently walked in the meadow, his legs got wet quickly from dew. The grass reached the knees, but it was surprisingly easy to go. A surge of strength. The distance has become less, the time has returned. He is on horseback.
The rickety door of Hibara. Hibara herself was a twisted, miserable sight, collected from different garbage, hastily fastened, so that it only somehow holds. Thinking a moment, he pushed the door. She slowly with a creak, opened a little, and then fell inside, raising a thin curtain of dust. He entered, and only the door creaked plaintively under his foot. Stuffy, half -dark. Undressed, old furniture. Not a covered bed. He stood in the center of the room, trying to wake up. The cool wind burst through the doorway. Wait. Somewhere in the distance the clock rang. He sat on the dirty floor and through the opening inaudibly came a crazy. She did not forget to grab a knife. Stood behind him, preparing to strike. He was waiting. The sounds of the city were heard, the noise of the crowd, hurrying in his "important matters". He hardly turned his head and moonlight, like on a canvas, in the doorway, clearly and talentedly outlined her figure. A crazy voice told him:
– If you are tired, then you can relax – thinking, she added – at home
-No – decisively and evil he answered her – if I return there, then my path will be ordered here.
-Why? Doors are always open to you.
-They will not let go. No one will let me go-he answered calmly, reconciling with fate-for some reason they need me
She calmly asked:
– Do you want to reach?
-Yes
-Then you need to give one small, unnecessary thing
-What?
-Life. All the same, it costs nothing, because it is priceless, but the fact that it has no price is worth nothing.
-Fine. Take it.
A quick blow, but the knife did not reach the goal. He stopped a fatal blow, caught in the steel vice of his palm of the wrist of crazy. Squeezed, she screeched, the knife fell with a quiet ringing, jumping a couple of times, trembling and calming down. The wind began to intensify, blowing out the hibara. She looked at him with tears, with flour in her eyes. He released her hand. It’s time to get up and move on. Where his star shines. Parts of the hibara began to break away and climb the endless blue sky. He got up and jumped, catching the wind, rising with him upstairs. He learned to fly, he rejected everything superfluous. He is not free, but he took a step back from freedom. His path is just beginning. It just begins ..

The text is quite smooth, but the plot is too musk: here is the cruelty of the world, and the complexes of the protagonist, and an echo from the past. The beginning and middle have approximately the same pace, but in the end too much is woven, because of immediately it is difficult to perceive everything.